Fragments of Silver
by Dragon MoonX
Summary: During the height of the second war Violet Stregheria leaves home in search of her lost sister, but not long after her departure she is captured by a band of Snatchers. She now has more to worry about than just finding her sibling, but does she really want to escape the clutches of the seductive man who's holding her prisoner? Full summary and warning inside.
1. Prologue

**Fragments of Silver**

Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling, because if I was Scabior would have been the star of the Harry Potter books. I own nothing but the original characters and plot.

Rating: M for moderate language, sexual content, alcohol use, and self-harm

WARNING:Please note that this story continas triggers for self-injury. Please do not read if it will trigger you. Please be safe.

Summary: during the height of the second war Violet Stregheria leaves home in search of her lost sister, but not long after her departure Violet is captured by a band of Snatchers.

Violet now has more to worry about than just finding her sibling...but does she really want to escape the clutches of the seductive man who's holding her prisoner? Can Scabior really help her find her lost sister? And can he save her from herself as well as the dangers of the war?

As time goes by, Violet discovers love as well as terrifying memories of her past that had been locked away in the deepest recesses of her mind, long forgotten until a sudden vision brings them to the surface. Only Scabior can protect her now, but he himself has a new enemy that he must face, straight out of Violet's own nightmares...

Dedication: for Sumatranfox. You give me hope, happiness and strength. You are my light, my love, my everything. And I will love you forever.

"In the present we make any connections possible that will keep us with the people we belong with. When souls connect they'll do anything necessary to stay that way." Sumatranfox

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

Violet Stregheria had always been the reject in her family, or the "failure" as her mother often called her. Least loved by her mother because she rejected the notion that their family was better than others because they were pureblood. And now that the second war had begun, things in the Stregheria household had only gotten worse as Violet's mother proudly displayed her support of the Dark Lord and what he was doing as he gained control of the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts. The only person Violet had who actually cared about her was her younger sister Heather, who, for reasons unknown, had mysteriously disappeared two months ago.

Violet and Heather had always been very close, even though their veiws on Dumbledore and the war sometimes differed from time to time. The two sisters were practically inseparable. Even when they were apart they sent letters to each other with owls every week. But somewhere along the way something had gone wrong, and Violet had no idea what had happened to her sister or where she went.

To make maters worse, Violet's mother couldn't have cared less that one of her children was missing.

"Heather probably left to get away from you," she told Violet, not bothering to hide the note of disgust in her voice as she spoke to her eldest daughter. "She's moved on and obviously wants nothing to do with you."

"But we're family," Violet said, tears welling up in her dark green eyes. "She's my sister and I love her. We've always been together and supported each other when times were rough."

"Are you sure she feels the same way about you? Perhaps she doesn't care about you as much as you think. You've always been useless. You're more trouble than you're worth and you can't do anything right. You probably drove her away."

Violet shook her head, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "It isn't true. It can't be! We love and care for each other. She would never do this... She couldn't just leave me, especially not without even giving me an explanation."

"You're the explanation," Violet's mother sneered. "She's gone and she isn't coming back and you just have to deal with it. You're nothing but a failure and nobody wants to be around you, not even your own sister."

Violet fled the room in tears, positively howling with misery as she ran to her bedroom and magically locked the door behind her.

She couldn't lose Heather, she just couldn't. Heather was all she had, she meant everything to her. Without her she had nothing, there was no one else in the world that meant more to her than her little sister. Had she really done something that had somehow driven Heather away? That just didn't seem possible. But then again, Violet always believed what her mother told her about being a failure and how she couldn't do anything right. Maybe she did do something wrong that drove her sister away. Violet didn't want to think about that, though. She didn't think she could live with herself if she had somehow unintentionally hurt her sister...

Violet loved her sister. She never meant to hurt or upset her. If only she knew what had happened. If only she knew what went wrong.

"I have to find her and make sure she's alright," Violet thought. "I have to find my baby sister."


	2. Captured

**Chapter 1: Captured**

_Pieces of the moon_

_Pieces of my heart_

_Fragments of silver_

_Lie broken in the dark_

_Bloodstains upon glass_

_Shimmering beneath the mark_

_Can you save me?_

_Or will you let me fall apart?_

It didn't take Violet long to pack up a few of her belongings and place them in a black, velvet drawstring bag. She put an undectable extention charm on the bag so she could easily carry everything with her in one place, then slipped on her black travelling cloak, tucked her wand into her pocket, and then left her mother's house in search of her sister.

Violet first checked the places her sister was known to visit. She checked The Three Broomsticks and The Leaky Cauldron, but there was no sign of her. She then began looking around Diagon Alley, asking the owner of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor if Heather had stopped by recently. Violet and Heather always enjoyed going to the ice cream parlor in the summer. They'd done so for years since they were children. But today Heather was nowhere to be seen.

There was no point in searching for her sister around Knockturn Alley. Heather wasn't the type to visit places like that. And by now it was nearly noon. Violet had been searching for her sister all morning. So she went back to The Leaky Cauldron and bought herself some lunch, still wondering where her sister might have gone.

It was hard being without her sister. Violet was positively miserable without her sibling. Violet and Heather had always been so close, it didn't make sense that Heather would suddenly vanish without a trace. Could it possibly have had something to do with the war? People were mysteriously disappearing left and right these days, but most often it was muggles and muggleborns that went missing, not purebloods from rich ancient families.

Violet sighed, gazing down at the half eaten sandwich on her plate. She was losing her appetite due to stress and worry over her missing sibling. She was worried about her, and their mother didn't seem to care about the welll beig of either of her children.

Leaving the gold on the counter to pay for her meal, Violet finished her glass of firewhiskey and left her unfinished meal behind as she exited The Leaky Cauldron. If things kept going like this, it wouldn't be long until she needed more than single glass of firewhiskey to get her through this.

It was now getting late. Violet had been out searching for her sister all day, but there was still no sign of her. And long about now she was seriously beginning to regret the fact that she'd never mastered the ability to preform a locating charm.

"Whoever said purebloods are better skilled at magic and most other things was wrong," Violet muttered to herself as she continued to walk along a long and winding dirt path outside of Hogsmeade village. "I can't even cast a simple locating charm to find my baby sister... Maybe I really am nothing but a failure."

Violet continued walking up a long, steep hill. Her feet, ankles and lower legs were beginning to ache, but still she kept going until she reached a fork in the road and turned left, continuing along a more level path across the hillside.

She knew where she was going. When she and Heather were teenagers, they used to spend their trips to Hogsmeade taking long walks together beyond the village and into the hills and woods. Violet knew this path well, as she and her sister had walked it several times before. And though she did't really expect to find her sister here, it wouldn't hurt to look, and taking a long walk in the peaceful countryside at dusk always helped her to relax and clear her mind.

As the evening began to draw to a close, Violet continued to walk the bare forest trail alone, lost in thoughts of her missing sister. To her right the sun was beginning to set, casting rays of amber and crimson light across the thin whisps of late summer clouds that slowly drifted across the horizon, bathing the nearby treetops with a warm, gentle glow. A faint breeze rustled the nearby bushes, a cool breeze, carrying with it the first subtle traces of the approaching autumn season. But as Violet stood listening to the leaves gently rustling in the early evening breeze, she heard something behind her. Something, or someone, was moving.

Violet drew her wand and quickly turned around, facing the tall trees and bushes that lined the side of the road. A tall, thin man with wild and unruly brown hair stepped out from behind a tree, his eyes dark and his face shadowed by the overhanging branches and foliage. A sly smile appeared on his lips and he spoke.

"'Ello beau'iful."

Violet took a step back. More men were now appearing from behind the trees and bushes. One of them, who had long, matted grey hair and smelled strongly of dirt, sweat, and dried blood looked as though he were part animal.

"I'd put tha wand away if I were you, pet," said the tall, brown haired man as he began to walk towards her. "You don't want to pick a fight with a band of Snatchers."

Snatchers. Was that what happened to Heather? Had she been captued by them and handed over to the Ministry? No. Heather was a pureblood. There's no way they would want to capture her. Right?

"Who are you?" Violet queried nervously, still pointing her wand at the tall man's chest, her hand trembling slightly as she took another step back.

"Tha is wha I am supposed to be asking you, not the other way around, princess. But if it pleases you, my name is Scabior." He then looked down at the ground behind Violet. "You take one more step back an you're going to fall down tha 'ill, pet. An tha 'ill looks like a long way down."

Violet glanced behind her. Scabior was right. A fall from that height could land her in St. Mungo's with a broken neck...that is if she survived the Snatchers first. But she was a pureblood. Surely they wouldn't want her. Either way, Violet didn't want to stick around long enough to find out. She wanted away from Scabior and his band of Snatchers, fast.

But it was too late. In the split second Violet had glanced over her shoulder at the steep hill behind her Scabior had quickly closed the gap between them as though he had apparated the few yards that separated them.

Violet gasped. Scabior had forcefully slammed her back up against a nearby tree, pinning her against the rough bark with the strength of his lean, muscular body. He drew his wand and jabbed the tip of it into the side of her neck.

"Drop your wand," he hissed in her ear. "Now."

The young witch was trembling visibly now. She could feel Scabior's hot breath on her cheek. His breath carried with it the distinct strong peppery smell of firewhiskey. Infact, now that she was this close to him, Violet realized that most of his entire body smelled of the warm pungent aroma of firewhiskey, along with a trace of other types of alcohal blended in.

Obeying his command, Violet dropped her wand. Moments later another Snatcher appeared and picked it up off the ground.

Violet was terrified and prayed that by following Scabior's orders she might be able to get out of this alive.

"Good girl," Scabior said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle when he wanted it to be. "Now, tell me who you are."

Violet swallowed hard, his wand still pressed aginst her neck. "Stregheria, Violet Stregheria. Pureblood."

Scabior's pale blue eyes widened slightly and he moved the tip of his wand a fraction of an inch away from her neck. "Oh really?" he sneered, a look of faint disbelief clearly present on his face. "Greyback!" he called out to the man with the matted filthy grey hair. "Do we 'ave a Violet Stregheria on our list?"

Greyback reached into his pocket and removed a small, black leather book. He began flipping through the pages until he found Violet's name.

"Here she is, Scabior," Greyback growled. "She's listed as a blood traiter who strongly supports the Order and muggle rights."

"What?" Violet almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. "But I'm a pureblood witch! You can't do this to me!"

Scabior's sneer grew into a sly smile. "Looks like we'll be 'olding on to you for a bit longer after all, pet."


	3. Reward or Ransom?

**Chapter 2:Reward or Ransom?**

Violet began to panic, her heart pounding violently in her chest. Her eyes darted from one side to the other, frantically searching for someone, anyone, who could help her. But she had walked so far out of town that there was no one around for miles. There was no one who could help her.

"No..." Violet said, fear and panic rising in her voice. She began to struggle against Scabior's strong hold on her. "No! You can't do this to me! Let me go, now!"

Scabior's blue eyes flashed dangerously, his face shadowed in the fading light of the setting sun. "You're not going anywhere unless I say so," he stated curtly, the gentleness in his voice vanishing in an instant. His voice was now chilling, cold, and carried a strong warning in his tone.

Violet froze, fear gripping her heart and her throat, squeezing her vocal cords and making it impossible to speak as her eyes met his, paralyzed by his deeply penetrating and intimidating gaze. She wanted to scream, to cry out for help from anyone who might hear her. But it was hopeless. There was no escaping the powerful Snatcher that now held her locked in his gaze.

Moments later, Scabior roughly shoved Violet to the ground, binding her hands behind her back by conjuring chains that magically wrapped themselves around her wrists.

"Get this through your 'ead, princess," Scabior hissed in Violet's ear, bending down low as he pressed his boot down onto the small of her back. "I am the one in charge 'ere. You will do as I tell you. Understand?"

Violet nodded, whimpering slightly as tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

"Good." Scabior slid his fingers beneath the chains around Violet's wrists and hoisted her up onto her feet. "Alright you lot," he called out to the band of Snatchers around him. "Let's get a move on an get back to camp. We've caught ourselves a lovely little prize with this one, an it needs to be decided who we turn 'er over to in order to recieve the most amount of gold for our work."

The band of Snatchers then disapparated, taking with them their latest prisoner.

The all enclosing blackness and tight, squeezing sensation that compressed her chest and lungs was gone in seconds, and as her vision cleared, Violet saw that she was now standing in the middle of a forest clearing. There were tents set up in a circle around the edge of the clearing, with the remains of last night's campfire still smoldering slightly in the center of the camp.

Violet looked around the campsite then briefly glanced back over her shoulder at the Snatchers standing behind her. Scabior was beside her, one hand firmly grasping the chain around her wrists.

If she attempted to escape now, the first person she'd have to deal with was their leader Scabior, and she wondered wheter or not it would be possible to simply get pats him and apparate before the rest of his men could catch her. Because she knew that if she could successfully attack and take down their leader, it would be enough to cause a temporary disturbance among the rest of the group, therefore creating a small window of opportunity in which she might escape.

But on the other hand she also knew that there wasn't much she could do without her wand, and that as their leader Scabior was most likely the strongest, fastest, and most cunning member of the group and wasn't likely to be an easy target.

Violet didn't have much of a choice, though. She'd already been captured by the Snatchers. And since things could only go from bad to worse anyway, she decided that an escape attempt probably couldn't make things much worse than they already were. Or atleast she hoped it wouldn't make things worse...

As they began to walk towards the campsite, Violet pretended to trip on a rock that was half covered in dry, fallen leaves that littered the forest floor. Scabior stumbled as she pulled him down with her, his hand slipping off the chain around her wrists. Violet's knees hit the ground and she heard the leaves rustling and crunching behind her as Scabior scrambled and slipped in the fall leaves. This was her chance. It was now or never.

A loud crack rent the air as Violet's foot collided with Scabior's face. She kicked him as hard as she could, lashing out at him the only way she could.

Scabior screamed in agony, both hands clutching his now bleeding nose as he collapsed to the ground on his back.

"Bloody bitch!" he snarled furiously.

Some of the Snatchers were now running to Scabior's side while the rest of them were in the process of drawing ther wands and preparing to hex Violet. But despite his injury Scabior was still faster than the rest of his men, and as Violet struggled to rolll over and stand up, one of Scabior's bloodstained hands quickly reached inside the pocket of his jacket for his wand, which he immediately withdrew and used to conjure a second set of chains which wrapped themselves around Violet's ankles.

"Scabior, are you alright?" asked one of the Snatchers, kneeling beside his fallen leader.

"Get back!" Scabior snapped harshly, shoving the other Snatcher away from him. "I'm fine. I'll 'andle tha witch myself!"

The other Snatcher, a young man by the name of Jeremy, slipped when Scabior pushed him and fell over onto his arse in the leaves. He watched as Scabior stood up, wiping the blood streaming from his nose down his top lip on the back of his hand.

"Feisty little minx, aren't you?" Scabior seized hold of the chain around Violet's wrists, hauling her up off the ground.

Violet whimpered softly, sobbing as tears trickled down her cheeks.

"I like tha," Scabior hissed, his hot firewhiskey breath on her face as he cupped her chin with his bloody fingers and raised her face upwards so they were gazing into each other's eyes. "You're lucky my father taught me to never 'it a female . 'Owever, I will 'ave to punish you for your be'avior. Then we'll see just 'ow feisty you really are, pet."

Punishment? What kind of punishment? Could this possibly get any worse?

Scabior took a step back, his broken nose throbbing with terrible pain. He pointed his wand at his nose. "Episkey," he muttered. There was a sudden snapping sound and Scabior's nose was mended. He then looked back at Violet, glaring at her, a frightening sight, his face stained with fresh blood and his eyes blazing intense anger. "Get 'er out of my sight," he growled. "I'll deal with 'er later."

Greyback stepped forward, taking Violet by the arm and dragging her across the leaf strewn forest floor towards the circle of tents, ignoring her sobs and cries as he pushed aside a flap on the tent and hauled her insde where she was then thrown into a corner of the tent and sealed inside with a special charm.

* * *

><p>As the sun set behind the forest trees and began its slow descent below the hills in an azure and lavender tinted sky with warm late summer peach hues and small whisps of snow white clouds, Scabior and his Snatchers sat around the campfire talking while a Snatcher named Silis prepared vegetable stew and rice for dinner.<p>

"So, we caught ourselves a Stregheria, eh?" a Snatcher named Ranca said, sitting directly to Scabior's left. "I've heard of them. Family's been around for ages, I hear. Like the Malfoys."

"Tha's not good," Scabior grumbled. He was still in a foul mood from the events that occurred upon capturing Violet. "The Ministry isn't going to pay us much gold for a pureblood from an ancient wizarding family."

"But it says in the book she supports the Order. That's got to make her worth something to us, Scabior."

"The Order..." Scabior frowned and spat into the campfire. "So she supports Dumbledore an 'is lot. 'Ow lovely," he added sarcastically, his bright blue eyes mirroring the burning flames of the campfire.

Silis began pouring the stew into bowls and handing them to the men around the campfire. Scabior accepted the large bowl Silis gave him and blew on the steaming liquid to cool it off a bit before dipping his spoon in the bowl and beginning his meal.

"Can I have her then?" Greyback queried, gazing up at Scabior with a disturbingly twisted grin on his face. "If she isn't worth much gold then perhaps I can have some fun with her."

"Ease off, Greyback," Scabior warned. "I 'aven't decided wha we're going to do with 'er yet. An either way she's still worth more to us alive than she would be dead. So you keep your filthy mits to yourself."

Greyback scowled and went back to eating his dinner.

"How much do you think she's worth?" Ranca asked, taking a sip of water from a canteen.

Scabior thought about Ranca's question for a moment, taking his time as he chewed a large piece of mushroom then swallowed. "Right now she's more trouble than she's worth. An we'd be lucky to get a 'andful of sickles for 'er."

"But she's a known supporter of the Order," Silis pointed out.

Scabior shook his head. "It doesn't matter. 'Er blood status greatly diminishes 'er value. We get paid to bring in mudbloods, not witches an wizards like 'er. She's worth next to nothing to us."

"You know, I think the Stregherias are rich," Ranca said.

This caught Scabior's attention and he immediately looked over at Ranca. "'Ow rich?" he asked.

"Lucius Malfoy rich," Ranca replied. "In fact I think the Stregherias might even be distant relatives of the Malfoys."

Scabior's eyes lit up, glinting in the firelight as a wide smile spread across his face. "We'll 'old 'er for ransom, then. I bet 'er parents will pay us a great deal of gold to 'ave their little girl back."


	4. Secrets Beneath the Surface

**Chapter 3:Secrets Beneath the Surface**

Violet was awake before dawn the next morning. The night was long, and most of the time she either wept silently on the floor or dozed lightly for a couple minutes. Her body was tense from fear and anxiety, leaving her unable to relax enough to fall asleep.

Shortly after dawn before the sun had fully cleared the horizon the flap on the tent opened, revealing the silhouette of a male figure standing at the entrance.

Violet squinted in the bright sunlight, tendrils of her short brown hair trailing down into her face, escaping the confines of her ponytail as she gazed up at the man now entering the tent.

"Morning beau'iful," Violet heard Scabior say as he walked in. "Are you going to be'ave yourself today? Or are you going to continue being a pain in my arse?"

The young witch glared up at him from the floor, anger showing through the fear in her olive green eyes. "That depends," she muttered irritably. "Are you going to keep treating me like shit?"

"I treat you like tha because you won't be'ave yourself. If you'd straighten your arse up and start be'aving like you should then I wouldn't 'ave to treat you this way."

Violet sniffed, angry tears trickling from the corners of her eyes and down her chin.

Scabior knelt down beside her. He reached out his gloved hand and gently wiped away her tears. "Don't cry, pet. I 'ate to see females upset."

Violet was surprised by how tender and gentle he could be. However she still didn't trust him and quickly turned her head, shutting her eyes to block out the sight of him as she tried wriggling away from him on the floor.

"Don't touch me!' she cried. "Just leave me alone."

"So you're going to be tha way are you?" Scabior said, frowning as his eyes appeared to darken in the early dawn light. "Fine then."

He seized her by the arm and roughly pulled her up onto her feet. He then drew his wand and vanished the chains binding her ankles and wrists together.

"I'm taking you outside for some fresh air an a spot of breakfast. I don't want to 'ave to 'urt you, but if you disobey my orders there will be no food for you today. Understand?"

Violet sadly hung her head, unable to look him in the eye. "Yes."

"Yes, sir," Scabior corrected her, his tone harsh as he began to lead her towards the entrance of the tent, one hand firmly clasped around her upper arm.

Violet sniffed, holding back tears as he walked her outside. "Yes, sir."

As she was lead outside into the center of the campsite where Silis was once again preparing a meal for everyone, the first thing she noticed was an older Snatcher named Morvin sitting on a log near the campfire with a tawny owl perched on his shoulder. He was scribbling on a sheet of parchment he had placed on his lap.

"Sit," Scabior ordered, motioning with a nod of his head towards a large rock located near the campfire. Violet did as he said and sat down on the rock. She then watched as Scabior walked over to Morvin and snatched the sheet of parchment off his lap.

"What're you doin'?" Morvin asked, looking up at Scabior. "I haven't finished wiv it yet."

"I'm checking your writing," Scabior replied. "Most of wha you write is barely legible. I want to make sure it's readable before we send it off."

Morvin sighed impatiently and began drumming his fingers on his knee.

"Morv." Scabior glared at him from over the top of the parchment. "Don't take tha attitude with me."

Morvin stopped drumming his fingers, looking away with irritation as he gazed off into the distance. Moments later Scabior balled up the sheet of parchment and threw it at him, hitting Morvin in the side of the head with the wadded up parchment.

"This is 'orrible," Scabior spat in annoyance. "'Ow are we supposed to get any gold when the people who receive the note can't even read it?"

"I'll take care of it, boss," said Ranca.

Scabior nodded his approval. He then turned to Violet and asked, "Where do you live, pet?"

"Why do you ask?" Violet queried, still not looking up at him as she wrapped her arms around her body for warmth, shivering in the cold dawn air.

"I ask because I want to know," Scabior replied harshly. "An you will tell me the answer to my question."

"Thirteen Eureka Road, north of Hogsmeade. It's the two story blue house in the foothills by the lake. But it doesn't matter. Nobody there cares about me anyway."

"Really?" Scabior looked at her with mild curiousity showing in his eyes. "Well we'll just see about tha."

"Breakfast is ready!" Silis announced loudly to the camp, rousing the remaining Snatchers from their tents as they awoke and hurried outside to join the others for breakfast.

Scabior handed a plate containing a mixture of rice, bacon, fried onions and scrambled eggs to Violet.

Violet stared down at her plate. "What is this?"

"It's something I like to call a breakfast casserole," said Scabior. "I'm rather fond of casseroles, an the onions 'elp give it an extra bit of flavor."

But Violet wasn't interested in eating. She felt ill from worry and upset, exhausted from lack of sleep and had no appetite whatsoever.

After several minutes had passed Scabior looked over at her and noticed that she hadn't touched her food. She was just sitting there, one hand cupping her cheek with her elbow on her knee as she moved the food around on her plate with her spoon without actually eating any of it.

"You're not eating, pet."

"I'm not hungry," Violet sighed.

"Eat. Or I'll shove the food down your throat myself."

Feeling frightened and intimidated by the threatening tone in Scabior's voice Violet began to force herself to eat. But she was nauseous and more than once she nearly gagged while attempting to swallow a mouthful of food.

Her dificuilty eating did not go unnoticed by Scabior who seemed to be the only one who noticed her struggle, watching her from the corner of his eye as she ate.

There was concern in his eyes as he watched her. Scabior could sense that there was something deeper troubling her, something more than being held captive by the Snatchers. He could see it in the worn look on her face, the sorrow and the pain in her eyes. Something was wrong. Violet was broken, she was hurt, and Scabior wanted to know why.


	5. Broken Shards

**Chapter 4:Broken Shards**

By the time breakfast was finished that morning Ranca had completed the ransom note and borrowed Morvin's owl to send the note to Violet's parents. Violet had become unusually quiet, and as Scabior got her by the arm and lead her back towards her tent curiosity got the better of him and he decided to have a talk with her.

The inside of the prisoner's tent was scarcely furnished with a small table and a cot with a blanket on it but not much else. And judging by how empty the tent was Violet was the only person this Snatchers were currently holding captive.

"Sit down, pet," said Scabior, motioning with his gloved hand towards the cot.

Violet did as she was told and sat down, keeping her head down, avoiding his gaze. Scabior cupped her chin with his fingers, lifting her head so her green eyes met with his.

"Look at me, pet. I'm not keeping you chained up today. But this tent is charmed so that no one can escape. Only I can freely come an go from 'ere so the only way you leave is with me."

Violet's gaze began to drift to the side.

"I said look at me," said Scabior, raising his voice to get her attention.

She immediately looked back at him. He was barely a foot away from her, and for a moment that stretched on for what felt like hours they both were silent, both gazing deeply into each others eyes. Finally Scabior broke the silence, his hand lowering as he relinquished his hold on her and took a step back.

"Why were you out in the middle of nowhere when I found you?" he asked, not taking his eyes off her as he spoke. "Don't you know 'ow dangerous it is to go wandering around outside near dark?"

"I do now," Violet remarked dryly. "And I wasn't out in the middle of nowhere."

"You were practically at the edge of the forest."

"I was only a couple miles from home."

"Answer my question," said Scabior, his kohl lined eyes narrowing in the darkness of the tent as he glared at her. "Wha were you doing out in the middle of nowhere? An look at me when I'm talking to you."

Violet shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I was looking for my sister," she muttered nervously. Why did Scabior have to be so intimidating?

"Your sister?"

"Yes." Violet nodded. "She mysteriously vanished weeks ago and I was trying to find her."

"You don't know 'ow to cast a basic locating charm?"

"No..." Violet stared down at her hands, feeling embarrassed. "Just because I'm a pureblood doesn't necessarily mean I can cast every spell in the book."

Scabior studied her carefully, taking a moment to process what she'd told him. If he remembered correctly he thought he'd heard something about the Death Eaters capturing a young woman a few weeks ago. But his job tracking muggleborns and rouge witches and wizards kept him very busy and he hadn't had the time to contact his friends within Voldemort's inner circle to find out more information.

"I think something is wrong," Violet continued. "My sister and I always used to write to each other, but I haven't heard anything from her in ages. Something must have happened to her...something bad that prevents her from communicating with me because everytime I send her a letter my owl comes back without a reply."

"Well you needn't worry about tha for long, pet. Because as soon as Ranca's ransom note reaches your parents your whole family ought to become quite concerned about your whereabouts and wellbeing."

"I doubt it," said Violet, her green eyes darkening with faraway shadows of grief and loneliness. "Nobody in my family ever gave a damn about me except my sister, and she's been missing for weeks. So I doubt that she'll be home when my mum gets your friend's note."

Violet was looking at Scabior now, and he was clearly able to hear as well as see the intense level of hurt within her eyes. It was a pain that was audible in her voice, and suddenly she began to appear tired and worn, like a woman much older than the young age of twenty eight.

For a moment they stared at each other in the dim light shining through the thick canvas of the tent. Then Violet spoke, a sudden anger and defiance entering her voice.

"You can't hurt me," she spat angrily. "You can't do anything that my parents haven't already done. They've already torn me apart, and all that you have are the remains."

For a brief second Violet thought she saw a faint trace of sympathy on Scabior's face, but then he blinked his kohl lined eyes and the minute hint of compassion was erased, replaced by a dark and malicious stare as he gazed at her, his voice deathly calm but laced with ill intent as he spoke.

"Careful, princess. You may act tough as a means of protecting yourself, but no matter 'ow 'ard we become on the outside we all 'ave soft spots, weaknesses that can be exploited an taken advantage of."

Scabior took a step forward, bending down low enough so that they were face level with each other. "I think you know wha I can do to you," he said, his voice a low, sinister whisper. "I also think you've been 'urt enough to realize tha there are fates worse than death. An if you take tha tone with me again, I promise tha I will make you regret it."

Scabior decided that he'd had enough of listening to her attitude for one morning and turned and exited the tent, leaving Violet alone and trapped in the enchanted tent.

Violet was quiet for several minutes after he left, her anger and frustration growing by the second. She felt so helpless and alone, trapped with no way to escape and still no where near finding her sister. She was so tired of the pain she felt, of the abuse she had endured from the day she was born. How could they understand her pain? They didn't know her torment. And now this strange man had come into her life, threatening to hurt her in ways she had not experienced before. Would he really do that to her? Could that actually happen?

She was feeling overwhelmed and desperately needed an escape, a release from her torment and suffering. She looked around the room and spied an empty drinking glass on the table beside her cot.

Without thinking she seized the glass and hurled it across the tent, watching it shatter into a dozen pieces on the floor. Her hands trembling, Violet sifted through the broken glass, pausing only for a moment to glance up at the tent flap, waiting and watching, listening for the sound of footsteps. But no one came. The tent had been charmed so that no one on the outside could hear any noises from within, making it so that the Snatchers wouldn't have to be disturbed by the cries from their prisoners.

When she heard no one approaching the tent she knew it was safe to proceed and picked up a large piece of the broken glass. Tears now streaming freely down her cheeks, Violet rolled up her left pants leg and swiftly drew the sharp edge of the glass across her inner thigh, drawing blood. She repeated the action again and again until small drops of blood began to slowly trickle down her thigh.

Collapsing onto her side on the floor, her breath now coming in ragged sobs, Violet felt her emotional pain diminish as the physical pain in her thigh took over. She dropped the piece of glass and closed her eyes, crying as she fell into a deep sleep.


	6. Receiving No Response

**Chapter 5:Receiving No Response**

Morning had one again come to the Snatchers camp, the early morning sun doing little to warm the chilly dawn air as the mid September cold and dampness settled over the forest.

It had now been five days since Ranca had sent his ransom note to Violet's mother, and so far there had been no reply.

"Perhaps she gave us a false address," sneered Greyback, tearing off a strip of flesh from the rabbit he was eating for breakfast. His rabbit was somewhat on the raw side, and a thin trail of blood dripped down his chin as he ate. "You want me to try interrogating her, Scabior?"

Scabior frowned in disgust as he watched Greryback lick the blood off his lips. "No, Greyback. I'll interrogate 'er myself if I 'ave to."

"So in other words you haven't fucked her yet," growled Greyback.

A few of the men sitting around the campsite grinned to themselves or to others, chuckling and snickering a little.

"Whaddya say, Silis?" Morvin said, elbowing his companion in the side. "She's a right pretty one, ain't she?"

"No one is to touch 'er without my permission," said Scabior, his stern tone leaving no room for argument.

In the silence that followed Scabior looked up as he heard the sound of wings fluttering overhead. Ranca's owl had returned and was swooping low as he prepared to land.

"Incomin'!" Morvin called out.

Silis ducked just in time to avoid a head on collision with the small owl. Ranca's owl then landed on the forest floor next to his owner and began pecking at Ranca's plate of bacon.

"Well that's rather odd," said Ranca, inspecting his owl for any sign of mail. "Hermes doesn't seem to have a reply with him."

"'E doesn't?" Scabior reached for the owl and Hermes fluttered reluctantly onto his wrist. Sure enough the little brown and white speckled owl was without any trace of mail from Violet's mother.

Scabior was baffled by the lack of response. He'd never seen anything like this before. And as he handed Hermes back to Ranca, he began to wonder if everything Violet told him about her parents not wanting anything to do with her was actually true. But how could that be? Could it really be possible for a mother to be so neglectful and uncaring towards her own child?

"I don't understand this," said Ranca, looking somewhat confused. "This sort of thing has never happened before."

"I still think she lied to us about where she lives," Greyback grumbled, picking his teeth with a bone from the rabbit he was eating.

"I don't think so," said Silis. "Sometimes you don't even need a person's address. You just put someone's name on the envelope and the owl can find its way on its own."

"What do you make of this, boss?" Ranca asked, turning to face Scabior.

Scabior blinked and looked at Ranca. He had been lost in thought, gazing into the flickering flames of the campfire as he pondered what Violet had told him about her family a few days ago.

He suddenly felt lost in a torrent of conflicting emotions. Scabior had a job to do. He knew he was a Snatcher and that work and making money came first. But he also felt concern for the young woman he had snatched. He also felt a sense of understanding deep down inside.

"I'll 'andle this," Scabior said. He stood up and headed towards Violet's tent.

A wicked grin spread across Greyback's face as he watched Scabior enter her tent. "Save something for me to play with, Scabior!" he called after him.

Violet was still asleep when Scabior entered her tent. She'd been oversleeping the past few days, and though she was still uncomfortable when in Scabior's presence she atleast seemed calmer than she had been when he had first captured her.

"Wake up, princess," said Scabior, kicking the side of the cot Violet was sleeping on.

Violet started and gasped, looking wildly around the tent until her eyes landed on Scabior.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"You slept through breakfast again," Scabior replied. "I 'ad Silis save you something, but tha's not the reason why I'm 'ere, pet. I 'ave something more important to discuss with you this morning."

Violet looked nervously at her captor, waiting for him to speak. And after a brief pause he continued.

"A few days ago my mate Ranca sent a ransom note to your mum. We did this because your family 'as money an because the ministry won't pay us much, if anything, for bringing in someone of your blood status. It's been five days now, an Ranca's owl returned without a reply. Would you like to explain to me why this is?"

"I already told you," murmured Violet, still groggy and not fully awake yet. "My sister is the only member of my family that cares about me. You won't get a single knut out of the rest of them. In fact they'd probably pay you to keep me."

"Is tha so?" Scabior asked, a look of mingled frustration and unwillingness to believe on his face. "Greyback seems to think you gave us a false address."

Violet shook her head. "No, I didnt . I told you before, my parents don't want me. I'm nothing to them just like I'm nothing to you and the rest of your filthy lot."

In one swift fluid motion Scabior closed the gap between them, drawing his wand as he walked towards her.

"Don't fuck with me, princess," he snarled, aiming his wand at her heart. "My time is valuable to me. I 'ave other jobs I could be doing right now, an every day I waste on you is another day I don't get paid. So I'd damn well better get my money's worth from you because I don't like losing gold over some muggle loving bitch like you!"

Violet shrunk away from him in fear, drawing her blanket up to her chest as her heart began to race.

"Although there are other ways you could be of use to me," he said, his eyes shining faintly in the darkness of the tent. His gaze then drifted downwards over her body.

It took his words a moment to register is her mind, but the instant she understood what he meant Violet began to inch further away from him, her back pressing against the canvas of the tent.

Scabior reached out with his free hand, tugging strands of her hair out of her ponytail and bringing it to his nose as he inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and spice mingled with a slight trace of perspiration.

"Funny you don't smell like violets," he said. Then with a flick of his wand Scabior magically pinned her hands above her head before climbing into bed and sitting on her lap, her back now flat against the cot as he straddled her.

A fiendish grin crossed his face as he watched her struggle to escape. He was enjoying this, watching her squirm and writhe frantically beneath him, the movement of her body against his groin causing him to become aroused as she attempted to free herself.

Violet cried out as Scabior shoved his hand up her shirt, groping and fondling her left breast before silencing her with a fiery kiss as his lips crashed down onto her mouth.

In her vain struggle to free herself Violet bit down on Scabior's bottom lip. But this did nothing to deter him. Instead he seemed even more turned on by her actions and moaned against her mouth as he ground his hips against her.

Moving his lips a fraction away from her, Scabior reached down and slid his hand into her pants, caressing her through her underwear.

"Remember 'ow I said I like my women to be a bit fiesty?" he said, his breathing becoming heavier as he leaned in and spoke softly in her ear. "Well this is the reason why. I told you I'd punish you for your be'avior earlier an I meant it, pet. This will be your punishment."


	7. Secrets & Suffering

**Chapter 6: Secrets & Suffering**

"No! Stop! Get away from me! Please!" Violet sobbed.

Violet continued to cry and beg him to stop, but as he tugged her pants down around her ankles Scabior's mouth dropped open as he spied something he hadn't expected to see.

Along Violet's inner left thigh were several long cuts, each one deep and sore, the skin around the wounds red and inflamed. The cuts ran vertically down the side of her thigh with a few diagonal cuts crisscrossing the vertical gashes. They looked as though they were a few days old but with layers of faded pink and whit scars beneath the fresh wounds, indicating that this sort of behavior had been going on for some time now.

"Wha the bloody 'ell is this?!" Scabior exclaimed, looking down in shock and revulsion at the scars and gashes on her thigh.

Violet closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, refusing to look at him or even speak to him. She had no idea how to explain this to him, and part of her didn't want to explain it anyway. This was her secret. She never meant to tell anyone how she suffered alone in silence.

Scabior was now backing off her, his gaze still fixed on the wounds on her inner thigh. He traced the raw cuts with his fingertips and heard her hiss with pain as she clenched her teeth together.

"Who did this to you?" Scabior queried, his harsh tone demanding an answer.

Violet sobbed into her pillow, still refusing to speak.

"Did your mum do this to you?" Scabior asked. He hadn't yet considered the possibility that she had done this herself.

Again Violet was silent, this time shaking her head in a definite no.

Scabior hesitated before asking, "Did you do this to yourself?"

Violet said nothing. She did not even shake or nod her head in response.

Scabior sighed heavily and ran his fingers back through his wild and unruly red streaked hair. She had done this and he knew it. What he couldn't understand was why. Why would anyone choose to intentionally harm themself?

He turned, glancing around the room as if searching for something that would provide him with the answers as to why someone would do such a thing. For a second he felt hopelessly lost and confused, then he took a look back at the cot she lay upon.

"'Old still," he said, his tone much softer now, and Violet felt him easing her legs apart. She feared that he was going to continue in his attempt to rape her, but she then began to feel a cool tingling sensation along the length of her left thigh that spread outward to her knee, andmake realized that he was healing her with his magic.

Violet opened her eyes, slowly lifting her head and looking down at the wounds on her thigh. They were beginning to mend, growing fainter by the, second asmhis magic healed her self-inflicted wounds.

When he'd finished healing her to the best of his ability Scabior pulled her pants up and removed the spell binding her hands above her head.

His face was unreadable as he gazed at her, a stoic mask of forced calm concealed his inner conflict as warring mixed emotions grew stronger, screaming in frustration for release.

Did he dare tell her? Did he care enough to tell her? Would it even matter if he did?

A long silence filled the air around them, deep and penetrating into every cell of their bodies. It felt as though an eternity had passed before Scabior spoke, finally breaking the silence that had settled between them.

"Why did you do it?"

Violet let her gaze drop to the cold floor beneath her. "You wouldn't understand," she muttered softly.

"Try me," Scabior persisted.

There was no way out of this now. Violet wasn't exactly in a position to argue with him.

Fighting back tears she swallowed hard and began to speak.

"My mother despises me. She says I'm a failure and a disgrace to the wizarding world because I don't behave the way a pureblood witch should...because I make friends with muggleborns, because I refuse to think of myself as better than others just because of my blood status, and because I'm against you-know-who and all he stands for. My mother has actually thought about joining you-know-who...says it would be an honor to serve him, that it's our duty to rid the world of those that are beneath us, the 'lower life forms', as she calls them. I want nothing to do with any of it, and that is why she hates me."

"An tha..." Scabior glanced down at her left thigh briefly, "tha made you do this to yourself?"

"I just...I just don't know how she can do it," Violet said, her voice cracking slightly as she spoke. "She's my mother... Isn't she supposed to love me and not treat me this way? Why doesn't she love me? Why am I never good enough for her?"

"An you think my life is perfect? You think my parents love and adore me despite wha I am?" Scabior spat in annoyance. "Look at me. I'm a Snatcher. I'm the leader of the Snatchers. Do you think my mum an dad are proud of tha?"

"But your parents -"

"My parents are dead!" Scabior shouted suddenly, startling Violet and causing her to jump in surprise. "They were murdered by Death Eaters!"

Violet gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening in shock.

"When I was in school I 'ad a couple friends who went on to become Death Eaters," Scabior continued. "The Dark Lord took an interest in us, noticing our skills an abilities. I refused to join 'im. I even tried to talk my best friend out of joining 'im. But it didn't work an the Dark Lord told me tha if I didn't join 'is ranks 'e would kill my entire family.

"I didn't want to become a Death Eater, but I couldn't just let my family die. So I tried to create a compromise. I invented the idea of the Snatchers, men who would 'unt down mudbloods an bring them to 'im. The Dark Lord 'ad seen wha I was capable of an knew tha I was able to 'andle the job. 'E agreed to spare my family so long as I served 'im an brought in prisoners with my band of Snatchers."

Scabior paused, inhaling a deep breath, and in the low light shining through the dense canvas Violet thought she saw his body tremble as though he were fighting to contain a powerful surge of emotions that was coursing through his heart.

He had to maintain his composure and stay calm. Scabior refused to show weakness or appear vulnerable through his display of emotions. He'd already paid for that once before and he swore that he'd never make that same mistake twice.

"After tha I thought everything would be alright," said Scabior, his tone dry and cold as he forced himself to remain calm, though he appeared to be having difficulty speaking for every word he spoke required great effort to be spoken and caused him a lot of pain. "But six weeks after I started snatching the Dark Lord sent one of his Death Eaters to my parents 'ouse and killed them. 'E killed them anyway, an when I asked 'im why 'e said it was to keep me in line because 'e knew tha I didn't really want to work for 'im in the first place...an to show me wha would 'appen to me if I ever tried to back out of the agreement I made.

"My parents died knowing wha I 'ad become...tha I am now a Snatcher. They practically disowned me, claiming tha they didn't 'ave a son. So even if the war ended tomorrow an I could go back to the way my life was before this began I can't fix wha I've done. My parents went to their grave knowing tha their son is a criminal...an now I can never return to the life I 'ad before."

"I'm... I'm sorry," Violet softly murmured.

"Yes, I'm sure you are," Scabior remarked sarcastically. "You an everyone else around 'ere."

"No, I really am. I didn't know you've been through so much." Violet sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes. She didn't know why but for some reason she was beginning to feel sympathetic towards her captor despite the fact that he had come very close to raping her. She felt she could understand him and that perhaps his problems were even greater than hers.

"How do you deal with it?" she asked him. "How do you manage to tolerate life and still continue to get out of bed every morning?"

"I drink," Scabior replied bitterly. "A lot. Most of my lot would even go so far as to say I 'ave a problem. But none of them know why or care enough to ask me why I do it. I also know tha you can't spend your life wallowing in self-pity an regret. So I make a point to live my life to the fullest an do the best I can, taking things one day at a time in this mad, fucked up world we are currently forced to live in."

Violet drew the blanket up to her chin, curling up in a ball on her side as a single tear slid slowly down her cheek. A tear she shed not just for herself but for Scabior as well.

"I wish I could do that," she whispered hoarsely, her voice beginning to crack. "I wish I could be strong and brave like you."

Scabior sighed and rolled his eyes. He reached under Violet's blanket and took hold of her by the hand, pulling her off the cot and onto her feet. "Come on, princess."

"Wait!" Violet cried, already attempting to free herself from the clutches of his strong grip. "Where are you taking me?"

"To my tent," said Scabior. "You're going to live with me so tha I can keep an eye on you an make sure you don't 'urt yourself anymore."


	8. Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter 7: Calm Before the Storm**

Violet was horrified. She wanted to get away from Scabior, not end up living in close contact with him. It was as though everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong, and now things were getting even worse, spiraling out of control into some form of bleak unending nightmare.

As Scabior pushed aside the tent flap and drug Violet out into the cold autumn sunlight, the young witch struggled and tried to free herself, her feet digging into the earth creating furrows in the leaf litter that covered the ground beneath her.

She screamed and fought, trying with all her might to escape, while all around her her actions were drawing the attention of the other Snatchers who looked up at her, watching her fruitless struggle, some of them with smirks or sly grins on their faces as they watched Scabior pulling her along towards his tent.

"Scabior must really like this un," said Morvin, a wicked smile on his face as he elbowed Ranca in the side. "It's been a while since I last saw him takin' a woman inna his tent wiv him."

Try as she might there was no getting away from Scabior. He was too strong, his lean, muscular body well toned and fit from his time spent running, hunting and tracking in the forest. Within seconds he'd dragged her into his tent, ignoring her frantic pleas and cries as he pushed her down onto his bed.

Violet's eyes widened with terror as she looked up and saw Scabior standing over her. For a second she feared that he was about to make another attempt at raping her. But instead he reached out and gently brushed aside a lock of hair from her face.

"I won't 'urt you, but you need to be still an listen to me," he said softly. "Just listen, pet. Tha's all I want right now."

Her breathing was ragged and her body was trembling with fright. Her heart pounding fiercely in her chest, she wanted nothing more than to escape. But as she gazed into his blue eyes she felt her body still for a moment, seemingly mesmerized by the beauty of his eyes and the finely sculpted features of his face.

"Will you listen to me?" Scabior asked.

Violet swallowed hard, her mouth dry, and nodded.

"I will take care of you," he said. "As long as you live with me I will not allow you to 'urt yourself anymore. Tha's not the way to solve your problems."

"Why do you care what I do to myself?" she snapped bitterly. "Afaid you'll get in trouble with your master if you deliver to him damaged goods?"

"You already are damaged goods. But I think you've been damaged emotionally more than you 'ave physically."

Scabior knelt down, running his fingers through her hair, and lightly kissed her forehead. "I can repair the damage if you let me."

Violet stared at him, her mind suddenly overwhelmed by a swirling torrent of fear, confusion, and disbelief. Could this man really be trusted? Why was he acting so caring and concerned all of a sudden?

She watched as he stood up and remained standing by her for several long seconds as he studied her closely. He definitely seemed troubled by her broken and emotionally frail state. And if she didn't know better...was that a faint trace of guilt shimmering in the depths of his deep blue eyes?

Taking a few steps back, Scabior pointed his wand at a small trunk by the foot of his bed. The locks on the trunk magically opened and out floated a few books that landed on the bed. Another wave of his wand and the trunk locked itself again.

"'Ere, pet. I want you to 'ave a look at those while I'm out working today," said Scabior, indicating with a nod of his head towards the pile of books on his bed. "It'll give you something to do to keep your mind occupied while I'm away. Also, from now on when I retire for the evening, I'm going to strip you down to your undergarments to check an make sure you 'aven't been 'urting yourself when I'm not around."

"No!" Violet protested angrily. "You can't do that to me!"

"I can an I will," Scabior said in a firm tone. "Now I'm going out to round up some mudbloods with my mates. I shall return later this afternoon." And with that he turned around and exited the tent.

Furious, Violet picked up one of the books on the bed and threw it at him as he left. The book missed its intended target, striking the tent flap as though it were a solid brick wall and fell open on the floor.

For several long seconds she was silent, gazing down at the book as angry tears slid down her cheeks. She felt so frustrated and alone. If only she could escape from this wretched hellhole and find her sister. But judging by the looks of things she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. If anything things were only going to get worse before they got better. That is if they got better.

She eventually laid down in bed on her side with her back facing the entrance to the tent. She stared at the wall, her mind full of troubling worries and thoughts. She wondered if she'd ever see her sister again.

When Scabior retuned late that afternoon he brought with him Violet's evening meal, which consisted of a bowl of vegetable stew, some slices of bread, and a flask of pumpkin juice.

Stepping over the book and easing it aside with his foot Scabior entered the tent.

"Looks like we 'ad a bit of a tantrum in 'ere, didn't we?" Scabior placed the food on his desk. "Come over 'ere, pet. I brought you some dinner."

Violet shifted slightly in Scabior's bed and looked over her shoulder at the meal he had brought her. She wasn't interested in eating, but she knew that if she refused he would probably tie her in a chair and force feed her. She she forced herself to get out of bed, sat down at the desk and began to eat.

"Food's a bit fresher tonight," said Scabior, walking toward his bed and sitting down on it. "Better variety too. We got a good 'aul today so I sent my mates out to restock our supplies after we got paid.'

"Why aren't you eating?" Violet asked, glancing back at him as he took a swig from a bottle of firewhiskey.

"I'll eat later," he told her. "I want to make sure you finish your meal first."

The rest of the meal passed in silence as Violet wasn't interested in having a conversation with him. The evening then followed much the same as Violet sat alone in Scabior's tent listening to the gentle lull of conversation coming from outside. It wasn't until well after midnight that Scabior decided it was time for him to go to bed.

Scabior took a shower in the the bathroom located inside his tent while Violet sat at his desk looking at the stack of books Scabior had given her earlier that morning. She hadn't opened or read any of them yet but was becoming somewhat curious about them and read the titles and the backs of the books. She was also looking at them in an effort to distract her mind from what she knew would happen when Scabior finished his shower.

He would come for her, force her to strip so he could examine her frightened and vulnerable body for signs of self harm.

'Or so he says,' she thought, feeling her chest constrict and her beathing become shallow out of nervous anxiety. 'What kind of perverted pleasure does he get out of this? He doesn't really care about me, does he?'

She looked down at the surface of the desk, hanging her head, her brown hair falling in curtains to frame her plump face as she fought back tears.

The room became silent as the sound of running water stopped. Violet froze, her pulse accelerating as she braced herself for the inevitable. Moments later, Scabior walked into he room wearing nothing but a pair of purple plaid pajama bottoms. In his right hand he was carrying a black tank top and a pair of black pajama bottoms. The pajama bottoms were embellished with small but beautiful pictures of red roses. But Violet hadn't noticed any of this for she was now too busy staring at the half nude attractive man that stood before her.

Scabior's body was just as finely sculpted as his face, with muscular arms and a bare chest with well developed pectoral muscles. His body was stunningly gorgeous, with strong shoulders and arms, a flat stomach and narrow waist.

Violet couldn't help herself. Her lips parted as her mouth dropped open in awe of Scabior's attractive form.

A smirk crossed the fine features of Scabior's face as he watched her reactions. "Like wha you see, pet?"

"Oh!" Violet blinked, her senses returning abruptly as the sound of Scabior's voice brought her back to the present.

Scabior chuckled, walking forward and placing the clothes in his hand on the bed. "I 'ave something for you, sweet'eart."

Violet shifted her gaze to the tank top and pajama bottoms. "Those are mine?" she said slowly. Scabior nodded. "Why?"

"My past experiences with females 'as taught me tha they can become rather un'appy when they aren't given the proper amount of care and attention," he said. "You are already un'appy as it is. So I 'ad one of my mates pick these up for you while we were out today. You can 'ave them, along with a 'ot shower before bed, but only on one condition."

Violet looked at him with curiosity and wary suspicion on her face. "And what's that?"

"You 'ave to let me examine you in your undergarments for any fresh wounds you may 'ave inflicted whilst I was away."

Violet bit her bottom lip and glanced back at the clothing he had brought her. A shower did sound nice, and though the clothes weren't exactly as heavy and warm as she liked they were rather pretty with patterns of dark green leaves and red roses trailing down the length of the black pajama bottoms. But she didn't know if she could bring herself to do what he wanted.

"I'm trying to make this easier for you, pet," said Scabior. "I know this must be difficult, so I'm trying to help in any way I can."

Reluctantly Violet agreed to his deal. She would let him look her over each night to make sure she wasn't harming herself.

"And what happens if you find that I've been cutting myself?" she asked.

Scabior sighed, a frown creasing the corners of his mouth as he said softly, "We'll deal with tha later. It's late, princess, an I 'ave to get to work tomorrow."

"Alright. I understand." Violet didn't really want to discuss what would happen if Scabior discovered that she'd been harming herself anyway.

She picked up the clothes that Scabior had set out for her on the bed and was halfway to the bathroom when Scabior stopped her, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"'Old on a minute," he said, his other hand reaching down into one of the pockets in his pajama bottoms. He withdrew a pair of black panties along with a black bra, both trimmed in white lace. "Since I'm going to be seeing you in your underwear after your shower, I want you to wear these for me."


	9. Nightmares

**Chapter 8: Nightmares**

It was nearly one in the morning by the time Violet, now dressed in her new clothes, had finally settled in for bed. Scabior had found nothing out of the ordinary during his examination of her after her shower and as a final reward for her good behavior he decided to allow her to sleep in bed with him. Though Violet wasn't exactly sure that sleeping in the same bed with him could be considered a "reward."

"You live in my tent, you sleep in my bed," he told her, waving his wand over his bed as he preformed a charm that would make the bed big enough for the both of them to sleep in. He then pulled back the covers on the bed. "After you, pet."

Violet laid down in bed, keeping her back to him as she gazed at the wall. Scabior kept his back to her as well, facing the entrance of the tent.

"Sweet dreams," said Scabior, extinguishing the candles on his desk with a flick of his wand, plunging them into darkness. Only the dim light from the moon shown overhead, its light creeping in between the folds of thick canvas at the entrance.

The minutes passed slowly as Violet lay staring into the darkness that surrounded her. Outside the wind was blowing in sharp gusts. A storm was brewing on the horizon, bringing with it the promise of rain. And within the deepest recesses of Violet's mind a storm of a different nature was also taking shape until at last she fell asleep and drifted into a world of torment and fear.

The skies were cold and bleak, the freezing clouds overhead were gathering in an ominous manner as driving winds rose over the treetops, bringing with it pelting sheets of hail.

As the hail struck the earth, Violet ran barefoot across the icy ground, her sister running ahead of her as they raced to find shelter from the vicious storm. In the distance an abandoned building loomed over them, its derelict frame rising out of the dark night. It didn't exactly look like the best place to seek shelter, its rotted boards creaking in the fierce winds as pieces of hail fell though large holes in the ceiling. But Violet and Heather didn't have much of a choice. The storm was getting worse. If they were lucky, they might be able to find a dry spot within the building.

Suddenly Violet stopped, a sharp cry of pain escaped her lips as a shard of ice that was sharp as glass scliced open her right arm.

"Violet!" Heather turned around in time to see her sister clutch her bleeding arm, stumbling as she came to an abrupt halt.

Within seconds the hail storm began to pour down blades of ice. It was as though someone with the power to control and conjure ice had turned the storm into a weapon of their own design, calling down piercing needles and blades of ice to attack their victims.

Lowering her hand, Violet paused briefly to examine her wound, her warm blood now seeping through her fingers and trailing down her arm.

"Violet, come on!" Heather cried, seizing her sibling's wrist and tugging her forward. "We have to keep going. We can't stay out here in this storm!"

Violet had only a moment to glance at one of the large pieces of ice shattered on the ground beside her, glimmering and sharp like fragments of broken glass before Heather pulled her forward towards the abandoned building up ahead.

The shares of ice continued to bite and slice into the young girls' exposed flesh as they ran, leaving them bleeding from over a dozen wounds and gashes each by the time they reached the steps of the old building.

Violet quickly flung the front door open, nearly getting swept off her feet as a gust of wind caught the frail and rotting door and roughly jerked the door wide open, slamming it against the side of the house.

Struggling against the raging winds, Violet managed to close the door with Heather's help as the two sisters pulled the door closed behind them once they were inside.

"What the hell was that?" Violet gasped, her back against the door as she slid down into a sitting position on the floor. "Where did that sudden storm come from?"

Before Heather could reply her sister shrieked and leapt up onto her feet. The older witch had accidently sat down in a large puddle of ice water. It was then that they realized there was several inches of standing water throughout the building with large holes in the ceiling and walls.

As Violet gazed down at the decaying wooden floorboards and freezing cold liquid pooling in large puddles throughout the house, the deep sound of malicious laughter began to fill the room, and terror gripped Violet's heart as the sound grew louder and louder, echoing off the walls and ringing in her ears.

She knew this voice. She didn't know from where but it was familiar to her, and she fell to her knees, the wicked laughter paralyzing her as it seemed to reverberate inside her head, filling her everevery nerve with fear and dread.

"Stop it!" she shouted, covering her ears with her hands. But the laughter refused to cease. Then, from within the echoing laughter a voice spoke to her.

"I know who you are, Violet Stregheria, but you do not recall your past. You have buried it deep inside yourself, and bleeding out the truth of your existence no longer serves as a reminder of who you were."

As the voice spoke a chilling wind began to fill the room, rattling the glass in the windows as the ragged, moth eaten curtains billowed in the gusts of wind. To Violet it felt as though the center of the wind was around her, swirling and rising like an arctic hurricane, and her vision began to blur as an icy mist formed around her.

The mist deepened, becoming a dense haze of grey fog, and from out of the fog a figure appeared, materializing from the fog as he walked towards her, his features indistinct and hazy, blurred around the edges due to the density of the frigid mist surrounding him.

The laughter in the air died away, fading suddenly as the driving winds grew stronger and the temperature in the room fell below freezing. It was then that Violet realized that this man who now stood before her was not affected by the wind or cold. His long white hair was still, untouched by the wind, as was his cloak and clothing.

Was he the one responsible for this storm? Was his magic creating the wind and ice?

He held out his hand, reaching towards her as he came closer. "Come," he whispered coldy. "Let us see how numb you really are."

Her eyes widening in horror, Violet tried to run. She didn't remember who this man was, but every fiber of her being was screaming at her to run and escape. But she was paralyzed, the swirling winds imprisoning her, freezing her to the spot, making her unable to move a single inch.

A cruel grin shown on the stranger's face as he glared at her. "Just as I thought. Your flesh cannot feel pain, but your blood is still warm, pulsing through your veins from within a heart more tender than your wounded soul."

He conjured a sword of shining crystal clear ice, and before Violet even had time to react he thrust the sword forward, plunging it into her chest through her heart.


	10. Intruder in the Woods

**Chapter 9: Intruder In the Woods**

Scabior awoke with a start as Violet screamed beside him in bed. He quickly sat up. The figure beside him was thrashing about in her sleep as she fought to escape the unknown assassin that haunted her nightmares.

"Violet!" Scabior called out, holding her down as she continued to scream and writhe in bed. "Violet, calm down. Snap out of it, pet."

The young witch's senses gradually began to return as she opened her eyes and gazed into the darkness of the tent. She could just make out Scabior's face as he sat beside her in bed.

"You alright, pet? Scabior queried, the blackness that surrounded him failing to conceal the concerned expression on his face.

Violet could hardly speak. Her nightmare, one of many that she'd been having recently, had upset her to the point of being practically beside herself with fright.

"No..." she whimpered, and began to cry.

It was then that Scabior did something most unexpected - he decided to comfort her.

Putting his arms around her Scabior held the crying witch as she continued to sob against his chest.

"Shh. 'Ush now, pet," he softly murmured. "It's alright. It was only a dream."

Despite how wild and rugged he was in appearane Scabior could be surprisingly gentle. He held her in his arms, rubbing her back and speaking soft, soothing words of comfort until she quieted down and began to relax.

When he released her Scabior reignited the candles on his desk with a flick of his wand. He then turned back to her, and looking closely at her he noticed that she was rather pale and sickly looking.

"Is something wrong?" Scabior asked. "You look a bit ill."

"I'm...I'm alright," Violet lied. "Just tired I guess."

"You don't look like you're alright to me, princess." Scabior smoothed her hair out of her face, noting the way she flinced and drew back when he reached to touch her.

Scabior frowned. "Is tha really necessary?" he asked, looking somewhat disappointed by her behavior as she flinched away from him.

Violet was silent.

"Fine then," Scabior sighed in annoyance. "But you'll learn to trust me eventually."

Brushing aside her hair he also noticed the dark circles beneath her olive green eyes. She looked ill and exhausted, and Scabior began to wonder just how long she'd been having nightmares and losing sleep.

"This isn't good, pet. There's obviously something wrong with you," he said. "You don't eat enough, you look as though you aren't getting enough sleep, an now this."

"I'm fine," Violet insisted. "Really I am."

"No, you're not," Scabior said firmly. "I can tell just by looking you. Apparently you 'ave more problems than I thought.'

Violet didn't know what to say to this man. He did seem genuinely concerned about her, but this kind of care and attention was practically unknown to her. Only her sister Heather had ever cared about her like this.

Drawing the blankets around her as she gazed down at the floor, Violet shivered as she felt a cold chill pass over her. Her pajamans weren't heavy enough to keep her warm, and now that she was fully awake she realized how cold she was.

Scabior cocked his head to the side as he looked at her. "Are you cold, pet?" he asked thoughtfully.

She nodded, wondering how it was that he wasn't freezing since he was wearing even less clothing than she was.

With a wave of his wand Scabior summoned his jacket from across the room where he had it draped across the back of the chair at his desk.

'Ere, sweet'eart. Put this on. It'll 'elp keep you warm."

Violet hesitated before allowing him to put his jacket on her.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asked. His voice had become soft once more, almost like that of a person speaking carefully to a frightened and wounded animal in hopes of not scaring it away

"Yes, I am," Violet replied, and this time she wasn't lying. There was something comforting about being wrapped in Scabior's jacket. It made her feel warm and protected, and it smelled like him, the strong scent of damp forest leaves mingled with the spicy aroma of firewhiskey clinging to the worn black leather.

A faint smile creased the corners of his mouth and he nodded his approval. He seemed satisfied by her response and began to relax a little. She did appear to be feeling better for now, and he believed what she said. So he placed a hand on her shoulder and genty eased her onto her side in bed so that she was lying down beside him.

"Sleep, pet," he whispered softly, extinguishing the candles once more before laying down beside her in the dark, his warm breath lightly caressing her cheek as he settled down beside her.

* * *

><p>The day dawned cold and damp the next morning with ashen grey clouds filling the sky as a cold wind rustled the golden and deep crimson foliage in the forest trees. Summer was fading quickly as the first rains of early autumn now approached from the south.<p>

Scabior was feeling restless. He knew that the new school year at Hogwarts had begun a few weeks ago, and based on the information he'd received Severus Snape would become the new headmaster of the school.

While Voldemort had ordered all the children to attend Hogwarts Scabior knew that there were students whose parents might attempt to keep them out of school now that it was being run by Death Eaters. There was also the chance that students might try to escape and flee the school, and Scabior was now anxious to move out and locate and capture some of these truants for a bit of extra gold.

His work had been temporarily delayed because of Violet and it was long past time to get back to his usual routine. But Scabior would soon discover that having Violet remain in his company wouild bring changes to his life and his world that he never expected.

"Where's Greyback?" Scabior asked, his blue eyes scanning the campsite for the werewolf as he ate his way through a large cheese omelet for breakfast. "Is it 'is time of the month again?"

"I think he said something about wanting to get a proper meal this morning," said Ranca.

"Lovely," Scabior sighed, rolling his eyes. He set his half eaten breakfast off to the side and withdrew his ivy wand from a pocket in his plaid pants. "I swear I need to put leash on the mutt."

Ranca watched as Scabior marched off into the woods, an angry scowl on his face as he left in search of Greyback.

Just as he was on the edge of their campsite, Scabior paused and glanced back over his shoulder.

"I want you lot to pack up an be ready to leave by the time I return," he said to the group of Snatchers sitting around the campfire. "We're moving to a new location after breakfast, so you'd best be ready to 'ead out." He then continued on his way into the forest.

It didn't take Scabior long to locate the wayward werewolf. He followed Greyback's tracks through the woods, leading him to a small clearing where Greyback was on his knees in the dirt eating the carcass of a freshly killed deer.

"You disgust me," said Scabior, walking up to Greyback.

"It's two days until the full moon," snarled Greyback, glaring up at Scabior as warm blood dripped off his chin onto the damp earth below. "What do you expect me to do? Order Chinese take out?"

Scabior curled his upper lip in disgust as Greyback sunk his yellowed teeth into the deer's side, tearing out a large chunk of raw flesh and chewing it. It was clear that he relished the taste of fresh uncooked meat, and as Scabior watched the werewolf devouring his meal the head Snatcher felt his stomach sour as he suddenly lost his appetite.

"'Urry it up," said Scabior, repressing the urge to vomit as he watched Greyback eat. "I've decided that we're 'eading out after breakfast this morning an I want everyone packed an ready to leave shortly."

Suddenly Greyback lifted his head, sniffing the air as he stared at something behind Scabior in the woods.

"What's that?" he asked.

Scabior quickly spun around, wand out as his sharp eyes scanned the surrounding woods.

"We're not alone," said Greyback, his voice a low, rumbling growl. "Someone is here, Scabior. I can smell them."

"Is there more than one?"

"No." Greyback paused, still scenting the air like a bloodhound. "I smell man."

Then they saw it. A tall dark figure shifted slightly in the distance, rustling the layer of dead leaves on the forest floor as he stepped into view.

Scabior was the fist to act, firing a stunning spell at the mysterious unknown figure. But his attack missed and struck a nearby tree, exploding in a shower of red glimmering sparks as the unknown figure disapparated before the hex could hit its intended target.

"Wha the 'ell was that?!" Scabior shouted, furious that his target had somehow managed to escape. "Where did 'e go? Find 'im now, Greyback!"

The two Snatchers searched the surrounding woods but they could not locate a single trace of the intruder that had entered the forest.

By the time Scabior and Greyback returned to camp the rest of the Snatchers had already packed their belongings, folded up their tents and were ready to leave. They wondered why Scabior and Greyback had been gone so long, but most of them were too afraid to ask why because they could tell by the expression on Scabior's face that he was angry about something.

"Uh sir, is something wrong?" Ranca asked as Scabior stomped into camp with Greyback following close behind. His reply came in the form of Scabior angrily kicking one of the burnt logs in the campfire and sending it soaring off into the distance in a shower of splintered wood and dirt.

There weren't many people who escaped Scabior once he set his sights on them. Whoever was in the woods that morning that had eluded capture did so only because luck was on their side. But the next time the stranger met Scabior they would not be so fortunate.


	11. Of Ashes & Embers

**Chapter 10: Of Ashes & Embers**

The Snatchers moved their camp to a dense forest a few miles from a small village. Scabior was planning a raid on the village because he'd recently received information that there were school age children being hidden there. He had discovered this useful information after interrogating a group of muggleborns he'd captured a few days earlier, and now he was ready to start putting his plans in motion.

Scabior looked forward to the raid for he knew that, if he was successful, he would be rewarded by the ministry with a large amount of gold. And not only that but raids always provided him with a chance to snatch a few females to bring back to camp for his pleasure.

Money, women and plenty of alcohol. Those were Scabior's favorite things. And as long as he got paid, and was able to drink and indulge in frequent sexual activities with any female he chose, he was happy. Nothing else mattered. He did what he wanted, made his own rules and always put himself and his own needs first. He'd lived that way for so long now he had nearly forgotten any other means of existence.

But something was different this time. As Scabior sat with his men around the campfire discussing the details of his planned attack on the village, his mind was heavy with distracting thoughts. His concerns for Violet were growing by the day, and try as he might he couldn't seem to force his mind to fully focus on the task at hand.

She was always there, lingering on the very edge of his mind. And that was where she remained as the cold night drew in around the dark forest, surrounding it, enclosing the trees in a shroud of icy stillness. It was the calm before the storm, the night air damp with the promise of approaching rain as Scabior lead his men into the village.

The screams from the villagers rent the night air, mingling with the crackling flames as several houses were set on fire. Morvin laughed, running through the village and casting Incendio to flush out the more stubborn victims that refused to leave their homes, while Silis and Greyback drug the helpless women and children from the houses and proceeded to chain them up in the center of the village.

Scabior and Ranca worked closely together, dueling and subduing the wizards that fought in vain to protect their families and their homes.

Jeremy kept watch over the prisoners, and kept an eye out for anyone who managed to escape being rounded up and captured.

The chilling winds grew in strength, picking at the burning embers and carrying them along across the blackened skies above like glimmering amber stars. Scabior could feel the intense heat of the flames, fanned by the winds that flicked his scarf over his shoulder, his long hair trailing behind him as his jacket rippled on the wind.

This night, as well as the storm, was his own. He felt it pounding in his heart and within the very blood that rushed though his veins. His eyes sparkling in the firelight as blazing embers danced on the wind, Scabior felt himself come to life in the night, with the elements surging through him, giving him strength, driving him to fight.

Two wizards, enraged by the Snatchers' attack on their village, charged at him, bellowing curses as they ran. But Scabior could not be felled by their combined strength no matter how strong their fury and hatred for him. He dueled them both at once, his wand motions fluid and swift, dodging their attacks, shielding himself, and finally combining a curse of his own with those of his attackers as he reflected their spells back at them. His foes were then blasted back by an explosion of black and gold flames, and sent soaring several feet into the air where they crashed into the remains of a burning building, striking the earth with such force that they were rendered unconscious.

A satisfied grin spread across Scabior's face as he watched his victims collapse.

"Come out now! All of you!" he shouted into the night. "Those of you tha give yourself up without a fight will not be 'armed. If you resist, you can expect no mercy."

"Scabior!" a voice called out from behind. The head Snatcher turned and saw Greyback forcefully removing a struggling young woman from one of the buildings. Her wrists were chained together behind her back, and there was a deep bloody gash across her forehead as well as burns across her arms.

"Look what we've got here," Greyback cackled. "I found you a good one, didn't I?"

Scabior paused, staring at the woman across a burning plane of smoldering ash and ruin. Their eyes met momentarily before Scabior turned away, unable to look at her.

"Keep 'er," Scabior said dryly.

Greyback looked at him with astonishment etched into the cruel features of his face. "You're serious?"

"Yes," Scabior spat with annoyance, his tone sharp and irritated. He seemed distracted by something. "Take 'er. She's yours."

Greyback grinned, bearing his yellowed teeth in a wolfish smile. "Looks like it's just you and me, girlie," he growled before dragging the woman off into the woods behind the village.

In the hours that followed Scabior and his Snatchers rounded up the villagers then went through them one by one, checking off their names on the list. This wasn't always easy, with crying children and uncooperative adults that were giving false names or begging and pleading for their families to be spared, the job could sometimes be time consuming and difficult.

"Shut it!" Scabior yelled, kicking one of the children in the side. "If there's one thing I can't stand it's squally arse little brats!"

The young child, a blond haired boy around twelve years old, was chained to his grandmother and four other people that had been captured from the village. He immediately stopped crying as the pain from his broken rib had stolen the breath from his lungs.

"Wha's this one's name?" Scabior asked, pointing to the injured twelve year old boy.

"Smith..." the boy's grandmother said between sobs. "Thomas Smith."

"Really?" Scabior flipped through the pages of his book and smirked. "This boy 'as 'is name down at 'Ogwarts. Care to explain why 'e isn't in school?"

At this the boy's grandmother broke down in tears and was unable to speak.

Scabior ignored her cries, and turning to face his men with a sinister smile he said, "We got a good 'aul tonight. This will bring us a fair amount of gold when we deliver them to the ministry first thing tomorrow morning."

The Snatchers brought their prisoners back to camp. The muggleborns would fetch them the most gold. Hogwarts truants were also worth a fair amount of money though not as much. As for the women they captured, Scabior's men would find a good use for them before handing them over to the ministry.

After the prisoners were secure inside one of the tents at camp, Scabior, Jeremy and Ranca went back to the remains of the village to salvage what they could from the few buildings that hadn't been burned to the ground, bringing back a decent amount of food and drink, mainly alcohol gathered by Scabior who found several bottles of firewhiskey.

That night the Snatchers stayed up late and had a grand feast to celebrate their success. Everyone ate and drank, with some of the Snatchers finding pleasure in their captive female companions. However Scabior did not choose a female from his selection of prisoners. For once he left the women alone for Violet was still his main concern. She was more important to him than they were.


	12. Am I Worth It?

**Chapter 11: Am I Worth It?**

It was nearly four thirty in the morning when Scabior entered his tent and began to get ready for bed. Violet had fallen asleep in his bed, still in her day clothes, earlier that evening and awoke when she heard the sound of running water in the bathroom.

She blinked her eyes, her vision a blurry haze as she strained her ears to try and identify the sounds she heard coming from nearby. She was exhausted, having barely slept more than a couple hours over the past week and wasn't fully awake when Scabior entered the room minutes later with a faded grey towel in his hands that he was using to dry his hair.

"My apologies, sweet'eart," said Scabior, vigorously rubbing his hair with the towel. "I didn't mean to disturb your rest, especially since you need more sleep."

"Mmm..." Violet mumbled sleepily, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Scabior finished drying his hair then slung the damp towel over his shoulder. He walked up to the bed and gently lifted Violet's limp form up onto the side of the bed and into a sitting position.

"Sorry, pet," he said softly. "I'll make this as quick as I can. Then you relax an get back to sleep."

Violet didn't speak or protest as Scabior vanishd her clothes with a wave of his wand, giving her body a brief once over as he checked to make sure there were no fresh wounds on her skin. He then promptly redressed her in her tank top and pajama bottoms with a second wave of his wand, then eased the blankets back on his bed and laid her down to rest.

"Heather," Violet murmured as Scabior covered her with the blankets. "Where's my...where's my baby sister?'

A sudden surge of sympathy filled Scabior's heart as he gazed down at her.

"Poor girl," he whispered. "You aren't even aware of where you're at, are you?"

Scabior was correct. Violet was barely aware of herself or her surroundings. Ill from exhaustion and from carrying such a heavy weight of emotional stress she had finally collapsed into a deep state of sleep.

Scabior sighed and settled into bed besides her. He would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about her, but the rest of the Snatchers didn't need to know that right now.

He smoothed the hair out of her face, gazing at her for several minutes as he watched her sleep. Her chest slowly rose and fell with each deep breath, and for now her sleep appeared to be untroubled by nightmares or disturbing dreams.

Shifting slightly beneath the warm comforter, Scabior bit his bottom lip as he felt a stirring of arousal in his loins. He knew that most of his lot had chosen to bed a few of the captive females they'd brought home tonight and that he could easily take Violet right now where she lay in his bed. But something in his heart and in the back of his mind told him not to. Something held him back, forcing him to rein in his desires and control the lust he felt burning deep within.

'Not tonight,' he told himself. 'Some other time per'aps..."

* * *

><p>Scabior awoke to the sounds of heavy rain pelting the canvas of his tent. The storm that began to arrive late last night was still going strong outside with winds whipping the branches of the trees, stripping them of their crimson, gold and faded green foliage. Though to Scabior it felt more like there were two storms going on, one outside and the other taking place inside his head as he now had a horrible headache from drinking too much the night before.<p>

He got out of bed, being careful not to disturb the sleeping witch in bed beside him, and staggered towards the bathroom, his head throbbing with intense pain.

For a moment he thought he was going to be sick and fought against the urge to vomit as he quickly yanked open the door on the medicine cabinet above the sink and removed a bottle of deep green liquid. He unstoppered the potion bottle and took a swig of the thick fluid, feeling it coat the back of his throat and esophagus as he swallowed it. It was a hangover relief potion, and if Scabior could manage to keep it down for a minute or two he would soon begin to feel much better.

Scabior groaned as a sudden wave of nausea caused his insides to churn uncomfortably. He gagged and quickly clamped a hand over his mouth as he leaned over the bathroom sink, his vision swimming as his stomach continued to rebel against him. Closing his eyes, he willed himself with all his strength not to get sick. Finally the potion he drank began to take effect and the contents of his stomach settled as the pain in his head gradually subsided.

In a short while Scabior began feeling better and proceeded with his morning routine as usual, brushing his teeth and washing his face before putting on eyeliner and tying his wild hair back with a black ribbon and getting dressed.

Breakfast was a quick and simple affair that morning made up of leftovers from last night's celebratory feast. It was too cold and wet to go outside and cook something over the fire, so Scabior stayed inside and prepared a meal of soup, two different kinds of bread with butter and jam, and a large jug of pumpkin juice.

When he woke Violet for breakfast she was still rather sickly looking and lethargic and was uninterested in any sort of food that he offered her.

"Come on, pet. You 'ave to eat something before we leave this morning," said Scabior, trying his best to gently persuade her to eat her breakfast.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To the ministry of magic," Scabior replied. "I 'ave to take the lot we snatched last night into the ministry an you're coming with me."

Violet sadly hung her head. "So you finally decided to turn me in and get rid of me."

"No, pet. It's not like tha at all. It's tha I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone like this when you aren't feeling well."

She didn't believe him, but long about now she honestly didn't care anymore. She had no hope of escaping or ever finding her lost sister, and she was beginning to think it would be nice if someone would do her a favor and put her out of her misery.

"I'm not leaving until you eat something," Scabior persisted. "You're going to need your strength for the trip to the ministry, an you'd probably feel better if you 'ad something in your stomach."

"But I can't..."

"Yes, you can," said Scabior, picking up a slice of pumpkin bread. "You can an you will. Or else I will feed this to you myself."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Violet asked. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Oh, I don't know. Per'aps it's because I actually give a damn about you and would prefer it if you didn't die of starvtion," said Scabior, the gentleness in his voice fading as his patience began to wear thin.

"Oh maybe you just want to keep me alive long enough to turn me over to the ministry."

"They wouldn't pay me a single galleon for you because of your blood purity."

"That's a lie," Violet shot back, now fully awake and feeling quite angry and irritable. "I support Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. For all you know I could have contacts within the Order or important information about them. I might not be worth as much as the muggleborns you usually snatch, but I'm sure they'd pay you something for me."

"You are worth more to me than I think you realize," said Scabior, trying his best to control his temper as his anger and frustration grew with each passing second. "Now I'm only going to tell you one more time to eat your damn breakfast before I shove it down your throat!"

Violet was rendered speechless by his words. The last thing she expected was to hear how much she was worth to him. But was he really telling the truth? Or was he simply lying to her?

Unable to find her voice or think of a response, Violet took the slice of pumpkin bread from him and began to eat. She ate a few more slices and drank some water. It wasn't exactly what Scabior would call a decent meal but it was better than nothing.

"Tha's better," said Scabior, draining the last drops from his second glass of pumpkin juice. "Now get dressed. We're leaving in twenty minutes."


	13. My New Woman

**Chapter 12: "My New Woman"**

The rain was still steadily drumming the earth as Violet, the Snatchers and their prisoners left for the Ministry of Magic. And as they arrived in London they soon saw that the weather there wasn't much better. If anything it was worse, with strong winds driving the rain across the city in sheets.

Scabior and the others apparated onto a street corner a couple blocks away from the ministry. Since they were travelling in a large group Scabior had cast a disillusionment charm on everyone but himself and Violet before they left in order to avoid arousing attention from the muggles passing by on the street.

"Stay close to me," said Scabior, wrapping his arm around Violet's arm, gripping her tightly to prevent her from running away. He raised a hand to his forehead, shielding his vision from the pouring rain as he glanced up at the black storm clouds overhead. "Bloody 'ell. Just my luck tha we 'ave to make a trip out during the first major storm of the season."

Scabior continued muttering obscenities under his breath, his jacket whipping out around his sides in the wind as he lead his men and prisoners towards the entrance of the ministry. Within minutes his hair and clothing was dripping wet and Scabior was now beginning to wish he'd chosen a location closer to the ministry to apparate to when they'd first arrived.

When they approached the stairway leading towards what appeared to be an ordinary underground public restroom, Scabior took one quick look around to make sure they weren't being watched before hauling Violet down the steps and through the door marked 'gentlemen.'

Scabior was determined to not let Violet out of his sight for a single second. And though he had told her in advance before they left about where they were going and how the toilets in the restroom connected to the Ministry of Magic, Violet was surprised when Scabior forced her into the men's bathroom with him and unceremoniously stuffed her into a stall. He hadn't told her he would do that and she let out a shrill shriek as the stall door slammed behind them.

"What're you doing?" she cried. "This is the men's bathroom. I'm not supposed to be in here!"

"We're going together," Scabior replied, stepping into the toilet. "I'll not risk the chance of you running off the moment we're seperated."

He took her by the hand and hoisted her up into the porcelain bowl with him. It was a rather tight fit with Violet standing on Scabior's feet. And needless to say they both looked rather awkward standing there together in a toilet.

"Is this really necessary?" Violet asked.

"To me it is," said Scabior.

Violet sighed. After everything she had been through lately now she was going to get flushed down a toilet. She decided to just go with it. It's not like there was anything she could do about it anyway.

Scabior reached up, pulled the chain, and the next moment they were both sent sliding down a short chute, emerging from a fireplace in the Ministry of Magic in a crumpled heap on the polished hardwood floor.

The chutes into the ministry weren't meant for two people to travel down them at a time, and Scabior practically fell on top of Violet as they tumbled and rolled across the floor.

All around them people were stopping to look and stare. Witches and wizards alike, curious as to what was going on, turned their heads to look as Scabior lay sprawled out across Violet, his jacket fanned out around him and his wet scarf dripping ice cold rain water into her face.

Violet felt heat rising in her cheeks despite having just been outside in the frigid autumn storm. She blushed bright red, realizing the compromising position that she and Scabior were both in as they lay on the floor.

A tall man with greying hair tied back in a long braid approached them. "Business as usual I see, Scabior," he said with a smirk as he looked down at them.

"Not 'ardly," came Scabior's muffled reply, his face buried in Violet's cloak. He raised himself up on the palms of his hands, tugging the tangled mess of deep plum colored material off his head as he looked up at the grey haired wizard. "Even I 'ave enough sense not to do tha' in public, Yaxley."

Yaxley smiled and nodded. "Of course you do."

Scabior glared at him before getting to his feet and removing his wand from a pocket in his jacket. He turned to face the fireplace and called out, "Is everyone 'ere yet?"

"Yes, boss," came Ranca's voice three feet from Scabior's left. "All are safe and accounted for, sir."

With a wave of his wand Scabior removed the disillusion charm he'd placed on them earlier.

Yaxley gasped and took a step back, surprised by the sudden appearance of over a dozen wizards and witches.

"Three mudbloods an four 'ogwarts truants," Scabior said proudly, a smug smile on his face as he looked back at Yaxley. "I'll easily make over a 'undred galleons with this lot."

"And what about that one?" Yaxley asked, pointing to Violet.

Violet, who had gotten to her feet and was now standing a few feet from Scabior, froze on the spot. This was it. Scabior would tell them who she was and it would all be over.

"She's my..." Scabior hesitated for a fraction of a second, "new woman."

Violet's heart dropped like a stone into her stomach.

"Oh really?" Yaxley raised an eyebrow. "So it really is business as usual then?"

Scabior slipped has arm around Violet's waist, easing her along in the direction of the golden elevator as Yaxley chuckled and laughed.

"We'll be on our way now," he said curtly, ignoring Yaxley's amused laughter. "Come on you lot, move out," he added over his shoulder to his band of Snatchers.

Ranca hastened to obey Scabior's orders, immediately leading the rest of the Snatchers and prisoners after Scabior and into the elevator.

Once everyone was inside the elevator Scabior cast a simple charm to dry up the excessive amount of rain water that had soaked into everyone's clothes and hair. Within seconds everyone was dry but Violet remained cold and shivering despite having her clothes magically dried by Scabior's charm.

"Something wrong, pet?" Scabior queried as the elevator gradually began its descent. Violet had not spoken a word since he informed Yaxley that she was his "new woman." The incredulous shock brought about by his choice of words had once again rendered her speechless. She now stood shivering in a corner of the elevator by herself, her thin purple cloak tightly wrapped around her body for warmth as she attempted to distance herself from Scabior as best as she could and rid herself of the memory of being called his woman.

Scabior moved closer to Violet. He slipped his arm around her, hugging her trembling body close to his. This time she didn't fight him. She didn't know what to think about him anymore, and long about now she was too tired to think about anything. So she remained quiet, leaning against him with her head nestled against his chest.

It was then that she realized how good it felt to be held by him. The warmth of his body and steady beat of his heart felt comforting, soothing her frayed nerves. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the familiar aroma of firewhiskey and damp forest leaves. A small smile appeared on her lips and slowly she reached up and put her arm around Scabior.

After he turned in his prisoners Scabior spent some time in Umbridge's office filling out all the necessary paperwork that always came with bringing in muggleborns. Umbridge praised him for his work, which meant a lot to him because he knew she didn't dole out complements very often.

During this time Violet stayed outside Umbridge's office with Ranca watching over her. As much as Scabior wanted them to stay together he did not wish to subject her to Umbridge's scrutinizing glares and questions regarding her life story, who she was, and where she came from.

Scabior knew that it was dangerous to risk bringing Violet to the Ministry of Magic, what with the ministry being interested in her due to her closeness with the Order of the Phoenix. He also knew it was unwise to leave her alone, especially since she was currently ill and suffering from exhaustion. But Scabior didn't have much of a choice. Violet was in no fit state to be left alone. The only good thing working in her favor was that her blood purity greatly diminished her value, causing her to be overlooked in favor of more valuable individuals. And with half the ministry focusing mainly on the capture of Harry Potter and the rest of them working towards completely abolishing muggleborns one lone pureblood witch was liable to go unnoticed so long as a bit of luck was on her side.

Upon completing the paperwork with Umbridge Scabior departed her office, returning to the corridor outside where Ranca was standing next to Violet.

Violet was shivering though not as badly as before. She looked absolutely miserable, and as Scabior approached her she looked up at him with curiosity and vexation on her tired face.

"Scabior," she said quietly. "Why did you tell that man that I'm your new woman?"

Scabior placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now isn't the time or place to discuss tha, pet. We need to get you back to camp first."

Scabior paid his men their share of the gold they had earned, giving Ranca a bit more gold than the others. When the other Snatchers began to grumble and complain about Ranca getting more money than they did Scabior explained that Ranca had an errand to run for him and that he would need to buy a few things in Diagon Alley.

"You've all been given your fair share," Scabior said to his band of Snatchers. "Now I want all of you to 'ead back to camp except Ranca. 'E 'as a job to do."

One by one the Snatchers began to depart until only Violet, Scabior and Ranca were alone in the corridor.

"How may I serve you, sir?" Ranca asked politely.

Scabior looked down at the young Snatcher and smiled. Out of all the people he had working for him Ranca was the most loyal and obedient of them all. He was hardworking and dependable. Scabior knew that he could rely on him for any task no matter how big or small the job was.

"I want you to go to Diagon Alley an buy Violet some new clothes, preferably something warm that'll keep 'er from catching pneumonia in the cold winter months ahead," said Scabior.

Ranca nodded. "Yes, boss. Shall I meet you back at camp afterwards or is there anything else you'd like me to do?"

"No, Ranca. That'll be all. You can rejoin the others once you've finished your errand. An be sure to buy 'er something with a bit of style. I want to make sure she looks good as well as being warm an comfortable."

Ranca nodded once more then turned and made his way down the corridor.

"Well pet, it looks like it's just you an me now," said Scabior, once again wrapping his arm around her. "Come on, sweet'eart. Let's get you 'ome."

Scabior immediately put Violet to bed as soon as they returned to camp. Her health was getting worse and Scabior was now fairly certain that she was coming down with a cold.

"Looks like you've caught a bit of a chill there, pet," said Scabior, adding another blanket to his bed to help keep Violet warm. When this didn't seem to help he tried casting a warming charm on his bed. This worked well and Violet finally stopped shivering and began to warm up.

Scabior sat down on the side of the bed. He spoke softly to her words of reassurance and comfort as he combed his fingers through her hair. Her eyes drifted closed and she began to fall asleep. Soon she was sound asleep with Scabior quietly watching over her as she slept.


	14. Flames & Regret

**Chapter 13: Flames & Regret**

In the days and weeks that followed Scabior continued to care for Violet to the best of his abilities. He was by no means a healer, and he sometimes became frustrated when she argued with him and refused his help. But slowly Scabior began to earn her trust, and over time she began to recover her health.

Scabior was right when he said Violet was damaged goods and that she needed more than regular meals and sleep in order to recover. She was lonesome, depressed and in desperate need of a good dose of love and affection. Real tender loving care. Her little sister had always loved her, and now that Heather was missing Violet had reached an all time low. Without her Violet felt like there was nothing left, like her only reason for living was gone. Her sister was everything to her and she couldn't imagine her life without her.

But sometimes help can come from a most unexpected place, and finding comfort in the form of a Snatcher was the last thing she expected.

At first she was cautious, keeping her distance from Scabior whenever possible. She was also quiet, refusing to engage in coversation with him. Many of their days were spent in silence, usually because Scabior became angry and stormed out of the tent when his continuous efforts to befriend her had failed once again. Violet would then cry alone in Scabior's tent while the head Snatcher went for a walk in the forest to calm down and clear his head.

It wasn't easy for either of them, but as the days wore on things gradually began to improve. Scabior and Violet began talking and she allowed him to get closer to her and help when she needed help. There were still some difficult moments at times because none of their issues could be easily remedied overnight.

One incident occurred about a month after Scabior had snatched Violet. They had had another row and Violet was upset, crying and yelling at him that she wanted to leave so she could find her sister. Scabior told her that he couldn't let her go because she was in no fit state to go anywhere just yet. He then promised her that, when she was well again, he would help her find her sister.

"I don't believe you!" Violet shouted. "And do you honestly think I'd want to let someone like you around my baby sister?"

"Right," Scabior sneered. "Because I have nothing but torture you since you arrived."

"You've prevented me from leaving and continuing my search for her."

"Tha's because I'm trying to 'elp you. Do you think you'd really be able to find 'er in the 'alf starved, sleep deprived state you're in? An do you really want your sister to see you in this sorry state?"

Violet paused, unsure of what to say in response to his question.

"Your sister obviously loves you very much an means a lot to you," Scabior continued. "I don't think she would want to see wha you've become in 'er absence. When you find 'er, you shouldn't look like you've just spent a year in Azkaban prison."

"She could be dead by now for all you care," Violet shot back.

"I do care," Scabior ground out between his teeth, furious that she once again wasn't listening to him. "An you should be damn grateful tha I'm offering my services to you to 'elp you find 'er. I'm a Snatcher, an expert at tracking an locating people. I could probably find 'er in a week or less if you would just cooperate with me."

Violet sniffed, her olive green eyes burning with amber flames as she glared at him, hot tears streaming down her face. Even she had to admit that he had a point. He had been trying his best to help her and make her feel better.

"Sit down, princess," said Scabior, placing his hands on her shoulders and pushing her down into a sitting position on his bed. "You need to calm yourself. You're not doing yourself or your sister any favors by getting so upset."

"Let go of me!" Violet cried, and Scabior yelped and backed away, releasing her as scorching flames suddenly sprang to life, burning the exposed flesh of his right hand.

Scabior quickly drew his wand, his left hand withdrawing the length of ivy wood from a pocket in his jacket as the flames raced up his right arm towards his elbow.

"Aguamenti!" he cried, jabbing his wand at his right arm. A cooling jet of water flew from the tip of his wand, extinguishing the flames. He then held up his hand to examine it more closely, checking to see if any serious damage had been done.

While he was examining his burned hand, Violet stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. She had hurt him, Scabior, the man who had given up his time and his money to make her comfortable, to make her feel better, the man who wrapped her in his jacket when she was cold, comforted her when she couldn't sleep, and offered to help her find her missing sister. Violet suddenly felt a sharp pang of regret stab her heart. He really was trying hard to help her...and this is how she repaid him for his help.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Scabior," she murmured.

"You're sorry?!" Scabior snapped at her, practically yelling, his words coming harsher than he'd intended. He looked up from his burned and inflamed palm, fixing her with a vicious stare that made her shrink back in fear. His insides were boiling with rage and he wanted nothing more than to hex her for attacking him.

Scabior took a deep breath, willing himself with all his strength to remain calm. "It's fine, pet. Don't worry about it. Merlin knows I've 'ad worse."

"But I really am sorry, Scabior," said Violet.

Scabior said nothing as he silently conjured bandages that wrapped themselves around his right hand. He was biting his tongue to keep himself from telling her off.

When he finished dressing his burned hand and looked back at her, Scabior could see real genuine regret in Violet's eyes. He also saw tears of remorse and sadness as well. She was on the verge of crying again.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Violet, don't."

"Scabior..."

"Just calm yourself. Breathe, pet. Take a few deep breaths and relax. It'll 'help you clear you 'ead an prevent you from 'aving another accident."

Violet did as he said, her heart rate beginning to slow as she gradually became calmer.

"I'm so sorry, Scabior," she said. "I don't know what came over. It was an accident."

"It's going to be alright, pet," said Scabior. "I can 'elp you, but you're going to have to trust me."

"I do," said Violet. "I see that now. I trust you, Scabior."

"Do you really mean tha?"

"Yes."

Scabior sat down on the bed beside her, and looking deep into her eyes he said, "Then you 'ave nothing to worry about. I will take care of you an we will find your sister. I promise."


	15. A Fallen Angel

**Chapter 14: A Fallen Angel**

Time passed. The green colors of the forest leaves faded as summer drew to a close and autumn turned the surrounding woods into a sea of rippling waves of amber and gold. October followed quickly after September, and before long the chilling winds that filled the gullies and made the fallen leaves rise and dance in the air brought with it the first hint of approaching winter as a light dusting of frost covered the earth late one November night.

As the crystals of frost gradually accumulated on the forest floor and the various bushes and plants, Scabior and Violet were warm and comfortable in bed in Scabior's tent. Violet had been sleeping better during the past couple of weeks, and as she and Scabior grew closer together Violet often found herself engaged in pleasant conversations with him before they went to sleep at night, and tonight was no exception.

"You're looking very lovely this evening, sweet'eart," said Scabior, smiling as he took a lock of her hair between his fingers and tucked it behind her ear.

Violet smiled back at him, her cheeks blushing deep red. "You always say that, Scabior. Though I really don't think I'm anything special to look at."

"Tha's your problem, pet. You tend to undervalue yourself. But you really are quite beau'iful."

Her eyes moved up to Scabior's face, taking in his appearance as they lay facing each other in bed. He looked different at night, with his hair down and his eyeliner washed off before he went to bed.

She tentatively reached towards him and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Your hair is so beautiful," she softly murmured. "And it's so soft."

"I know," Scabior said, still smiling.

He lay still for a couple minutes, relaxing as she continued to run her fingers through his lush mane of long dark hair. His eyes drifted closed, his body unconsciously leaning into her touch as she stroked and caressed his hair.

It felt good to have a woman touch him. Even though she was only playing with his hair he couldn't ignore the amount of pleasure he felt as her fingers delved deeper into his tangled tresses, the tips of her nails lightly brushing against his scalp. He thought briefly of her hands tangled in his hair, holding on tightly as she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning his name as he leaned over her, his breath hot on her neck as he repeatedly thrust into her.

Leaning even closer to her, Scabior's lips parted slightly as he exhaled a long deep breath, his breathing becoming heavier as he once again felt the heat of arousal stir in his loins.

He was so close now. Close enough that he could kiss her if he wanted to...put his arms around her, pull her close and deeply, passionately kiss her. But was it too soon for that sort of behavior? Would she allow him to get that close to her right now?

"Scabior."

The sound of her voice broke his train of thought, his mind returning to the present as visions of him and Violet engaged in acts of lustful passion left his thoughts.

"Hmm?" His eyes opened and he found himself gazing into her olive green eyes mere inches away from her face.

"What is this?" she asked him.

Violet had eased Scabior's hair back and away from the left side of his neck, revealing a series of numbers tattooed along the side of his neck.

Scabior's eyes widened. She had discovered the mark he had obtained during his time in prison, a mark he usually tried to hide with his hair and the scarf he often wore.

Backing away from her, Scabior's hand instinctively rubbed the side of his neck where the prison numbers had been magically burned into his flesh.

"Tha's um...tha's my prison number," he said, hesitating somewhat before he spoke. "I've been in Azkaban, an everyone who is sent there 'as a mark like this."

"What were you sent to prison for?" Violet queried, her tone surprisingly sympathetic instead of the usual repulsed and horrified response his mark normally received.

Scabior wasn't expecting this. He was used to being hated, to having people abhor him. But the look of concern and mild curiosity in Violet's eyes was genuine. She wasn't shrinking away from him the way others did when they learned he'd spent time in prison.

But Scabior couldn't bring himself to tell her about his past. There were things that had happened to him that were still too horrible, too painful to discuss...certain things that were private and he didn't know if he could ever tell her about how he had ended up in prison.

"I'd rather not talk about it," said Scabior, becoming suddenly distant.

"Can you tell me how long you were in prison?" Violet persisted, in hopes he might tell her something about his time in Azkaban.

"No," Scabior replied. "But only because I don't remember most of my time there myself. I..." He paused, his left hand moving from his neck to his brow. He rubbed his temples, staring down at the blankets on his bed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, slowly lowering his hand then shaking his head. "It's all a blur to me. I think I must 'ave been unconscious most of the time. An the dementors..." It was at this point that Scabior's voice gave out on him and he turned away, unable to speak.

"Scabior?" Violet spoke softly, gazing at the Snatcher's silent form as he rolled over in bed with his back facing her. "Scabior, what's wrong?"

But Scabior remained silent.

Violet placed her hand on his shoulder. "Scabior, please tell me what's wrong. You've been kind enough to help me when I've had problems. Maybe I could help you now."

"Get your bloody 'ands off me!" he shouted, sitting bolt upright in bed and shoving her away from him. "I don't need your 'elp! An I told you I don't remember wha 'appened while I was in Azkaban. So there's nothing for us to discuss."

Scabior's blue eyes were blazing with anger as he glared at her. But as Violet's eyes met with his she saw something else hidden deep within the pale blue depths of those burning orbs.

And then she saw it. From within the black spaces of her innermost thoughts a vision of Scabior materialized in her mind.

She could see Scabior lying on his back in a prison cell, his eyes glazed and unfocused as he stared up at the ceiling. His clothes were torn and ragged, bloodstained and filthy. His entire body was shaking violently, shivering uncontrollably as a bone chilling cold filled the air. He appeared to be drifting in and out consciousness, unable to move an inch from where he lay.

Outside the cell door a tall man with long blond hair was shouting something at someone further down the hall.

"Get him out of there!" the blond wizard bellowed furiously, banging the silver snake head that was attached to his polished black walking stick against Scabior's cell door. "Quickly! There's no time!"

Moments later the door opened and a pair of hands from out of the gloom grasped Scabior's limp form and carried him out of his cell.

Scabior was scarcely breathing, his body bruised and aching with tremendous pain that radiated down the length of every nerve in his body. All he knew was pure, paralyzing agony and freezing cold...and the blackness clouding the edges of his vision, surrounding him, beckoning him down into a gentle release from his torment.

His head lolling to the side as his eyes drifted closed, Scabior gave one last shuddering breath before losing consciousness, the blackness enveloping him at last.

Violet blinked as her vision cleared. The blackness returned to fill her mind as the vision ended and she found herself staring at Scabior's angry face. She wasnt sure what just happened or why those images had presented themselves to her in her mind. She didn't even know if what she'd seen was real or not. But somehow she felt she knew the answer. She knew what lie beneath the anger in Scabior's eyes, and it was hurt.

"You've been hurt before, haven't you, Scabior?" she asked him.

"Wha?" His anger instantly forgotten, Scabior looked at her with a mixture of stunned curiosity, completely unable to speak.

"You have, haven't you?" Violet continued. "Someone did something to you. You've been hurt physically...and you've been hurt here." She placed her hand on his bare chest over his heart.

Scabior's mouth opened but no words came out. He simply stared down at her hand for several long silent seconds before looking up into her eyes, which were now shining with a light he'd never seen before...a sort of calm and quiet knowledge that glimmered faintly in the corners of her olive green eyes.

How could she possibly know what had happened to him? Was it possible that this little witch was some kind of seer? No, that was highly unlikely. In the past few months that he had known her she hadn't shown any sign of being unusually gifted with magic. Of course she hadn't been allowed the use of her wand since being captured by the Snatchers, but still she seemed to be nothing more than an average ordinary witch. Well, ordinary except for a few emotional issues, but no one is perfect.

When Scabior finally found his voice he gripped her wrist and eased her hand off his chest and said, "I've lead a very long an difficult life, pet. Many things 'ave 'urt me. But wha doesn't kill me only makes me stronger."

He sighed heavily and ran a hand back through his unruly hair. "I never meant for my life to become wha it is, pet," he said slowly. "I didn't want to become a Death Eater, so I became a Snatcher instead, thinking tha would be a better option...thinking I could save my family if I did. I thought tha if I 'ad to do something wrong in order to do something right it would justify my actions. But it didn't work out the way I planned, an now everything tha I do I do because I 'ave to in order to survive.

"I've made a lot of mistakes, pet. An tha's wha landed me in prison. Tha's why I've been 'urt. But I do wha I 'ave to to get by. I do the best I can. It just doesn't always work out for me."

There was a long silence that followed. Then, Violet lay back in bed, and looking over at him she asked, "What do you think will happen when this war is finally over?"

"I don't know," Scabior replied wearily. He looked tired and worn, the lines on his face seemed deeper somehow as he sat illuminated in the flickering light of the candles on his desk. "I suppose it depends on which side wins the war."

"What happens when the Dark Lord is defeated?"

Scabior snorted. "You mean if 'e is defeated, pet."

"You don't think he can be stopped?"

"To tell you the truth, pet, I 'onestly don't know." Scabior lay down in bed beside her again, fluffing his pillow a bit before settling down in bed. "'E's in such a position of power right now tha it doesn't look good for those tha are working against 'im. 'Owever, 'e 'as to 'ave a weakness. Everyone does. But wha tha is an 'ow someone could exploit it is beyond me, sweet'eart. It may be beyond any of us right now."

Violet thought about this for a while. The idea of Lord Voldemort having some sort of weakness seemed almost impossible. And yet there in that very sentence was the key word - almost. Though it seemed unlikely, Violet had to admit that Scabior had a point. No one person could ever be without a weakness of some kind. Voldemort had to have something that made him vulnerable, that made the monstrous abomination that he had become more human like everyone else.

"What about you?" Violet asked. "What'll happen to you if the Dark Lord falls?"

"I'd probably end up in prison again," said Scabior. "The only reason I'm able to snatch people an get paid for it is because of the Dark Lord. Without 'im around I'd be seen as nothing but a common criminal."

The thought of Scabior being imprisoned again didn't sit well with Violet. She was beginning to grow rather fond of him and didn't want him locked away in a horrible place such as Azkaban.

Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face because Scabior noticed the worried expression and asked her what was wrong.

"I'm fine," she told him, hesitating somewhat before she spoke. "It's just that I...well, I don't want to see you back in prison again."

Scabior raised an eyebrow, his expression brightening. "Is tha so?" He sounded pleasantly surprised by her words. "I thought you didn't like me an wanted nothing to do with me."

The smallest hint of a smile creased the corners of Violet's mouth as she looked at him. Her voice suddenly abandoned her, her heart racing in her chest. Could it be that she was falling in love with this wild and arrogant wizard?

"Be 'onest with me, pet," Scabior said. "Do you per'aps fancy me? Just a little?"

Again she found herself momentarily unable to speak. It felt like her heart was in her throat.

"Yes, I do," she finally managed to say.

"An do you per'aps feel attracted to me?"

Violet's smile widened. Her heart was racing even faster now. She couldn't help but feel drawn to him. His pale blue eyes were so alluring, holding her gaze with a look that both captured and melted her heart.

"Pet?" Scabior said when Violet didn't answer. "Come on now. You must find me attractive with the way you're looking at me like tha."

Violet exhaled slowly, her breath coming out as a faint sigh of longing. She wasn't even aware of the fact that she had been holding her breath until that very moment.

"You are very sexy," she said.

"Indeed I am. But you 'aven't answered my question."

"Yes. I suppose I am attracted to you," said Violet, finally telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. "I can't help it. You're beautiful, Scabior. And you're a lot sweeter than I imagined you would be."

"Sweeter?" Scabior grinned. "Well I'm not the bastard tha everyone thinks I am. I do 'ave a 'eart despite wha others think of me."

Violet sighed contentedly, closing her eyes and snuggling up close to him. "You're a sweetheart," she softly murmured.

"An so are you, pet," said Scabior, extinguishing the candles on his desk with a brief wave of his wand.

It was late. Almost one in the morning. And seeing that Violet was now relaxed and comfortable beside him made Scabior decide that it was time to get some sleep.

"I like being here with you, Scabior," Violet said sleepily, already beginning to doze off. "I don't want you to end up in prison again. I want us to stay together."

"Don't worry about it, pet," Scabior said, wrapping his arm around her. "They won't catch me tha easily. An the only reason they did catch me tha one time is because I was - " Scabior's voice trailed off as he suddenly became quiet.

"You were what?" Violet asked.

"It's nothing, pet. Go to sleep."

"Alright," Violet yawned. "Goodnight, Scabior."

"Goodnight, pet. Sweet dreams."


	16. Snowbound Terror

**Chapter 15: Snowbound Terror**

Snow was falling in large white flakes as the bruised and blackened clouds descended from above. The tops of the mountains and surrounding trees were lost amid the heavy clouds, and Violet's breath was steaming in the frigid air as she walked along an empty dirt road through the hills.

The snow was so deep that Violet couldn't see the ground beneath her feet. Nearly all the nearby bushes and plant life had been swallowed up by thick heavy mounds of white. There were, however, fresh tracks in the snow, stretching out before her and leading up a long and winding slope.

Violet stopped and knelt down, taking a moment to examine the tracks. She wasn't sure who or what had made them. But judging by the size and shape of the prints it looked as though a fairly large animal had made them.

"Scabior," Violet called out, motioning for the head Snatcher to come join her with a wave of her hand. "Come over here for a moment and look at this."

"Wha is it, pet?" the dark haired Snatcher queried as he walked towards her.

Violet pointed to the prints in the snow. "What do you suppose made these, Scabior?"

Scabior carefully studied the prints in the snow. It didn't take him long to realize that the prints were made by a large cat about four or five feet in length.

"What kind of big cat would be lurking around out here?" Violet asked.

"I don't know," said Scabior, gazing out across the snow covered ground at the trail of pawprints. "But wha'ever it is it isn't fully an animal. It's an animagus."

"What?" Violet spun around, turning to face Scabior who was still squatting in the snow beside the pawprints. "How do you know that?"

"Look closely at the prints, love. See 'ow they morph into 'uman footprints a couple yards away?

Sure enough Scabior was right. As she followed the tracks Violet saw that the animal tracks gradually changed into those of a human being.

Violet looked worried. "What does this mean, Scabior?"

"It means tha there is a witch or wizard out 'ere who shouldn't be," said Scabior, standing up and walking towards her. He withdrew his wand from a pocket in his jacket. "Be careful, pet. I 'ave a feeling that we're not alone."

Violet took a step towards Scabior, her eyes nervously scanning the surrounding woodlands for any sign of movement. She felt frightened and stood close to Scabior for protection from whatever unknown entity was lurking in the forest.

The snow was falling heavier now. Already it was beginning to fill in the deep tracks with a fresh layer of powdery snow that covered the frozen earth, blanketing everything for miles around in solid white.

A severe snow storm was brewing on the horizon. If Violet and Scabior didn't return to camp soon they were liable to end up getting caught in the first major storm of the season.

"Let's go home, Scabior," said Violet, clinging to the Snatcher's arm as she began to shiver. "It's really cold and I don't feel safe out here."

Scabior wanted to stay and further investigate the tracks in order to uncover who the mysterious intruder was and where they went. But seeing that Violet was frightened and uncomfortable out in the cold he decided to take her back to camp then return on his own later.

Just as Scabior was preparing to apparate with Violet back to camp he spied a large animal perched upon the snow covered hillside between a growth of tall trees. The creature, whose fur was pale white with patches of black rings, was crouched low to the ground, ready to pounce. Scabior had only a split second to register the creature's appearance before it lunged at them.

Thinking fast Scabior shoved Violet to the side, shielding her with his body as the massive wildcat attacked. Violet stumbled and fell to the ground. She looked up as she heard Scabior scream and saw fresh blood staining the pure white snow. There was a blinding flash of deep purple light and the wildcat was sent sprawling on its back in the snow. The wildcat then got back up and vanished in the blink of an eye.

The moment the wildcat disappeared Violet hurried to Scabior's side to see if he was alright.

Scabior had collapsed and was lying on his side in the snow. A large crimson stain was seeping into the cold ground beneath him, spreading slowly to form a warm pool around the fallen Snatcher's legs. His left leg had been torn open and he was bleeding from a deep gash in his upper thigh.

Violet couldn't believe her eyes. Scabior was hurt, and he had gotten hurt protecting her from harm.

"Get out of 'ere," he gasped, looking up at her as he painfully struggled to force himself into a sitting position. "Now."

"Scabior, no! I can't leave you like this!" Violet cried.

Gritting his teeth against the pain Scabior doubled over, clutching his wounded leg that was pouring blood onto the snow.

"I said go!" he shouted. "Leave me! I'll stay be'ind an finish tha bastard myself."

Falling to her knees beside him in the snow, Violet flung her arms around Scabior.

"No!" she wailed. "I'm not leaving you! I won't!"

"Dammit, Violet!" Scabior tried to push her away from him but it was no use. The stubborn witch wouldn't budge an inch.

"Scabior, no, please..." Violet sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she clung to him. "Scabior, I can't leave you... I can't."

"Violet, you 'ave to go. It isn't safe 'ere. Violet! Violet!"

The young witch's eyes shot open as she heard someone calling her name. She found herself in bed, her arms tightly wrapped around Scabior's body as the Snatcher fought to free himself from her grasp. It had all been just a dream. A very vivid, very horrible dream.

"Wha's wrong?" Scabior asked the moment Violet released him. "Violet, tell me wha 'appened."

Violet couldn't speak. Her eyes wide with terror and her skin pale and covered in cold sweat, she was breathing rapidly, her pulse racing a mile a minute.

Scabior placed one hand behind her back, holding her as his other hand lightly stroked her hair. Already he could feel heat radiating from her body. She was going to have another accident with her magic is she didn't calm down.

"Breathe, pet," Scabior told her. "Remember wha I told you before. You need to breathe deeply an relax."

Violet's body tensed as the heat within her grew more intense. It felt like her entire body was about to burst into flames.

"Come on, love," Scabior said, both hands now firmly holding her by the shoulders. "Close your eyes. Listen to the sound of my voice. Focus on it. You follow me, pet?"

Her body trembling as she struggled to maintain control of her magic, Violet did as he said, closing her eyes as she concentrated on Scabior's voice while trying to block out the horrific images of her dream that still lingered on the edges of her mind.

"Tha's it," Scabior continued. "Breathe in an count to three."

Again Violet followed his command.

"Now ex'ale an slowly count to three again. Draw the magical energy back into your body. You can do it, pet."

Violet's heart rate gradually returned to normal, the heat simmering beneath the surface of her skin slowly dissipating.

When she had calmed down, Scabior asked her to tell him what was wrong. But Violet didn't want to tell him what she had seen in her dream. It had been bad enough experiencing it once. She didn't want to relive it all over again by telling him the details of her nightmare.

"You need to learn to let me 'elp you, sweet'eart," said Scabior. He grasped her hands, looking deep into her eyes in the early morning twilight that filled the tent as he spoke to her. "Tell me wha 'appened."

Why did Scabior have to be so charming? His voice soothing and his tone so strong and comforting. He could protect her from herself and the pain within her heart. Violet knew this. And so she began to speak, telling him what had happened in her dream.

Scabior listened intently as she spoke, paying close attention to the details of her dream. It was indeed an unpleasant nightmare she had experienced, but Scabior assured her that everything was going to be alright, that it was only a dream.

"I don't know, Scabior," said Violet. "Something doesn't feel right. I think something is wrong."

"Nothing is wrong, sweet'eart," Scabior said softly. "Though I'm beginning to think it might be a good idea to pick up a bottle of dreamless sleep potion the next time I'm out in Diagon Alley."

No, something was definitely wrong. Violet knew in her heart that something wasn't right. She just didn't know how to explain what she was feeling. She didn't understand why she felt like this, why her chest was tight and her body burning with suppressed magical energy. Her face felt hot and it was difficult to breathe. She sensed something was wrong, but what? What exactly was wrong?

Scabior placed the back of his hand against her cheek. "You're burning up. You need to relax, pet. You feel like you 'ave a fever."

"Maybe I just need some air," Violet mumbled, not fully aware of the fact that she was speaking or what she was saying. Her thoughts were muddled and her body hot and tired. "Go outside..." she continued, now sounding like she was talking in her sleep. "Cool off... Outside..."

Taking hold of her gently Scabior eased Violet onto her back in bed.

"You need to rest," he told her. "Just lie back down an rest. You'll be alright in a bit."

Scabior sighed, watching as her eyes closed and she drifted back to sleep. It was a worrisome situation, watching as she slowly recovered only to fall back into nightmares and torment once again. He decided he would make a trip to Diagon Alley after breakfast that morning to purchase some dreamless sleep potion for her. He wasn't going to sit back and watch her go through this all over again.

By now the sun was beginning to rise above the horizon, its warm glow painting the pale November skies with faded golden yellow and azure hues streaked with torn and drifting white clouds.

It was still early, even the birds had not yet begun to chirp and sing their morning songs in the cold autumn forest. Scabior didnt usually get up this early in the morning. But since he was already awake he figured he might as well get out of bed and start the day.

After getting dressed and tying his messy hair back in a loose ponytail, Scabior made his way to the entrance of the tent. Taking a moment to glance back over his shoulder at Violet's sleeping form in his bed, Scabior pushed aside the tent flap and froze. The ground before him was covered in pure white snow. And stretching out before him in the snow was a trail of large pawprints.


	17. Snowflakes & Gashes

**Chapter 16: Snowflakes & Gashes**

Scabior stood and stared out at the scene before him. All around him everything was covered in several inches of fresh snow. But it shouldn't have been snowing now. The first snows didn't normally begin until December. And the mysterious pawprints that crept their way through the campsite and off into the forest left Scabior utterly baffled, for it was as though a scene from one of Violet's nightmares was playing out right before his very eyes.

Bending down to examine the prints in the snow, Scabior soon realized that the tracks were those of a large wildcat. He placed his hand beside one of the prints, noticing that the animal's paw was nearly the size of his own hand.

Suddenly there came the sound of a branch being snapped not far away in the surrounding woods. Scabior's head shot up, and he caught a glimpse of a large muscular snow leopard bounding off through the trees. He quickly drew his wand and gave chase after the powerful beast.

Racing through the snow covered bracken and weaving between the overgrown redwood trees, Scabior ran at top speed as he attempted to catch the fleeing animal. He hadn't stopped to consider the possibility that Violet's dream might have been a warning and that perhaps he shouldn't be so quick to give chase after this animal. The only thought that entered his mind was that if Violet's dream came to pass, her safety would be threatened by the witch or wizard that hid behind the guise of a snow leopard. He had to protect her no matter what the cost or what happened to him in the progress. He wouldn't let anything take her from him.

Still running after the fleeing snow leopard Scabior fired a hex at the creature. His spell missed, shattering the bark of a tree some three feet away to the left of the snow leopard.

The snow leopard was too fast, its long legs carrying it four steps for every two Scabior took. Skilled as he was at snatching people Scabior couldn't catch up to the large wildcat. And in a final burst of speed the snow leopard quickened its pace, leaving Scabior alone in the snow covered shadowy forest.

Scabior skidded to a stop, snow spraying out beneath his boots as he came to an abrupt halt. He was furious that his target had once again eluded him, but there was no time to think about the creature's escape, for as soon as the snow leopard vanished into the trees a dense fog began to fill the surrounding forest. Within seconds Scabior could barely see five feet infront of him, the chilling fog reducing the woods to a murky white haze with looming silhouettes of tall dark trees.

Then it happened. A blazing jet of pale blue light pierced the fog and struck Scabior in the arm, tearing open the sleeve of his jacket and ripping though his flesh.

Scabior screamed in pain, his kneens buckling in agony as he doubled over clutching his bleeding arm.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Scabior's eyes darted left and right, desperately searching for any sign of the person who attacked him. But the white shroud that veiled the forest was too thick to see through.

"Come out 'ere!" Scabior shouted angrily. "Stop 'iding an come out an fight me like a man!"

"As you wish," came a voice from within the fog. And with that the fog lifted, revealing the figure of a tall wizard with deep brown eyes and shoulder length greyish-black hair, wearing slate grey clothing and a forest green cloak.

"Who the bloody 'ell are you?" Scabior snarled. "An wha are you doing 'ere?"

"Jacob O' Riley," the brown eyed wizard replied. "And what I'm doing is of no concern to you. I do what my master tells me to do, and that is all you need to know."

"Really?" Scabior took a step forward. He glanced at his wounded arm and saw blood streaming out from between his fingers, dripping down his elbow. It was clear that he had been badly injured, but he wasn't about to let that slow him down. "Well around 'ere I'm in charge, an as far as I'm concerned you 'ave no business being 'ere!"

Jacob was forced to duck and run as a curse hit the ground and exploded barely a foot from where he had been standing. He continued to run, the ground erupting on either side of him as he zigzagged through the trees. It was then that he realized that the snow was hindering his progress. It was so thick that it was difficult for him to run - or even walk - in. Scabior on the other hand was able to run through the snow with ease. He'd spent so long running, chasing and snatching people in various weather conditions that he was used to whatever Mother Nature could throw at him. If Jacob wanted to have any chance against him at all, he would have to cause further injury to the persistant Snatcher in order to slow him down.

Jacob dove for cover behind a tree just as one of Scabior's hexes caught him in the side, burning through his clothing and setting his cloak on fire.

"Wha's wrong? Can't 'andle a proper duel with someone when you arent 'iding from them?" Scabior jeered, wanting to laugh at the sight of Jacob with his cloak ablaze, burning brightly in the dim twilight of the forest.

Jacob put out the fire with a jet of water from his wand before leaning around the tree and hurling a hex at Scabior.

The hex barely grazed the side of Scabior's cheek as he sidestepped the attack, leaving a thin cut across the Snatcher's face. Scabior then retaliated with a bright spiral of white light that struck Jacob full on in the chest, lifting the wizard off his feet and sending him spinning through the air some twenty feet before slamming him into a tall redwood tree.

Collapsing in a heap on the frozen earth, Jacob gasped sharply as the wind was knocked out of him from the blow against the tree. His ribs were shattered and every breath he took lanced his insides with tremendous pain. He knew that he was finished if he didn't do something to stop Scabior at once.

His eyes shut tight against the pain in his chest, Jacob heard Scabior's footsteps crunching in the snow as he ran towards him. He opened one of his deep brown eyes, seeing the image of his foe as a blurred haze as his sight swam before him. He then made a slashing motion with his wand, sending a brilliant flare of bight light at the incoming Snatcher.

Scabior had not expected Jacob to have recovered so quickly from such a devastating blow. He was only barely able to cast a protective shield charm in time, causing Jacob's curse to strike the shield and rebound off into the woods, exploding like dazzling fireworks as it took out several trees about thirty yards away.

"Well, it appears as though you still 'ave some fight left in you," said Scabior, slowing his pace as he walked up to where Jacob lay on his side in the snow. "Imagine if tha 'ad actually 'it me. But I'd say tha you're pretty much spent after tha."

Jacob coughed and retched, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth, staining the snow with drops of deep crimson. Scabior was only fifteen feet away from him. If he didn't escape now he would surely die.

"No..." he gasped. "Not yet... Not this time." His deep brown eyes were blazing with furious anger and determination as he looked up at Scabior. He refused to be defeated this way. There was still light within his eyes. Jacob O' Riley wasn't done yet.

With his last ounce of strength Jacob forcefully drove the tip of his wand into the snow covered earth. The ground began to tremble and violently shake, causing the snow to fall from the limbs of the surrounding trees, and a raised patch of earth appeared where Jacob had stabbed the ground with his wand.

The patch of earth was like that of an animal tunneling beneath the soil, leaving behind a trail of loose raised earth in its wake as it made its way underground. But this entity was not an animal. It was a powerful sphere of magical energy racing towards Scabior from a depth of three feet underground.

There was no way for Scabior to stop an attack like that. Within seconds the underground sphere reached its target and exploded beneath Scabior's feet, ripping apart the earth as a massive cloud of snow and dirt was sent soaring a mile into the air.

When the tremors settled and the dust had cleared, Scabior was no where in sight. Whether or not he survived the curse was unknown to Jacob who's only desire now was to escape alive, and he had used the explosion as cover to disapparate.

There was now nothing left of the two wizards. Only bloodstains upon the snow and shattered earth remained as a sign of where they had once been.


	18. Predictions & Promises

**Chapter 17: Predictions & Promises**

The sun had risen well above the horizon and was lazily making its way across the early morning sky. Its light shown through the branches of the forest canopy, casting dappled shadows over the cluster of tents in the woods. One by one the Snatchers were gradually beginning to wake up and start their day.

Ranca was one of the first to wake up, a bright blue sky covered in a patchy layer of high clouds greeting him as he walked out of his tent into the warm sunshine. The ground was no longer covered in snow, though drops of early morning dew and bits of frost still clung to the grass and bushes.

"Where is Scabior?" Ranca asked with a yawn, taking a seat on a fallen log opposite Silis who was adding more wood to the campfire.

Silis shrugged. "Don't know. He's usually awake by now and telling me what he wants for breakfast."

Ranca glanced over at Scabior's tent. "You don't suppose he and Violet are having a bit of a lie in do you?"

"Not sure," Silis replied. "It wouldn't surprise me, though. Scabior seems to have become awfully fond of her."

Ranca shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. "You know I didn't think it was possible that, after all these years, Scabior has finally found someone he truly likes."

"I wouldn't go jumping to conclusions if I were you, mate," said Silis. "You of all people should know better than that. Perhaps she's just a nice piece of arse that Scabior isn't ready to turn in yet."

"But it's because I know better that I can tell things are different this time. I know Scabior better than anyone else here. I went to school with him and I've known him since he was a boy. We grew up together, always running, chasing each other, playing games out in the woods. So trust me on this one, mate. The boss is in love. I'm sure of it."

"Pfft." Silis shrugged off Ranca's comment with a wave of his hand. He didn't believe that Scabior could fall in love with anyone. That just wasn't possible in his mind.

The sun continued to rise higher into the sky and still there was no sign of Scabior. The Snatchers were beginning to get worried. They didn't know why their leader had yet to make his presence known in camp that morning. It wasn't until an hour after sunrise that Scabior finally returned to camp, limping and bleeding.

Within seconds nearly all of the Snatchers converged upon Scabior, offering him help and asking him what had happened. Only Morvin stayed behind, watching the others with mild curiosity. He didn't really care enough to come forward and offer Scabior any help. And from the looks of things Scabior wouldn't have accepted it anyway.

"Get away from me!" snapped Scabior when Ranca suggested that he sit down and let him tend to his wounds.

Scabior was limping badly on his right foot, the left sleeve of his jacket torn to shreds and soaked in blood. But still he refused help from any of his men, stating that he was quite capable of taking care of himself.

"I need to talk to Violet," he said. "Now."

"But sir," Ranca persisted. "You're injured. At least let me clean and bandage your arm."

"I said I don't need your 'elp!" Scabior said, shoving Ranca to the side and limping towards his tent. "I'll patch myself up in a minute. Right now I 'ave more important matters to address first." And with that he disappeared into his tent.

As soon as he entered his tent Scabior began to gingerly remove his torn jacket. There was dried blood caked on the smooth leather material as well as soaked into the soft interior lining. He could easily clean and repair his jacket with a few simple charms, but right now his focus was on the witch who was still sleeping in his bed.

Scabior removed his jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair that was pushed up under his desk. He briefly examined the large gash in his upper left arm, noticing that it was rather deep and extremely painful. He then conjured a roll of bandages, wincing as they magically wrapped themselves around his wounded arm.

"Violet," said Scabior, walking over to the bed and nudging her in the side with the tip of his wand. "Violet, you need to wake up, pet."

Violet stirred slightly and mumbled something in her sleep.

"Violet." Scabior gave her another poke with his wand. "Come on, love. We need to talk."

"What did you call me?" Violet queried sleepily, rolling over in bed to get a better look at him. She'd never heard him call her 'love' before, and for a moment she was quite sure she must be hearing things.

The moment she saw Scabior standing there before her with dried blood down his face and arm she gasped, one hand clutching her chest as she sat bolt upright in bed.

"Scabior! What happened to you?"

"I just about 'ad my fucking arm torn off is what 'appened," said Scabior. "Tell me something. Do you 'ave any seers in your family?"

Violet stared at him, her mouth opening slightly in astonishment. Even if she had been awake enough to comprehend what he was asking her it was still too much to take in all at once.

"Seer?" Violet said slowly. She looked from his bandaged arm to the cut on his cheek, his words gradually beginning to sink in. "But in my dream you were injured and couldn't walk."

"I can walk, but it's a right pain in the arse to get around," said Scabior.

He limped over to the bed and all but collapsed onto it as he sat down beside her.

"I think I may 'ave sprained my ankle," he said, rolling up his right pants leg and carefully removing his boot. "Or at least tha's wha it feels like. I was 'it with an unknown 'ex an got caught in the resulting explosion when the ground erupted right under my feet."

Violet's eyes widened as she looked down at his right foot and saw that a large bruise was darkening the skin above his ankle. She also noticed the rips in his plaid pants along with several cuts and abrasions to his legs.

"I don't think anything is broken, but I'll not be snatching anyone until this 'eals, pet," said Scabior. He then turned his attention back to her and said, "You still 'aven't answered my question, princess."

"You haven't told me how this happened to you," said Violet.

"Answer my question first," Scabior said, a strong note of irritation present in his tone when he spoke. The amount of pain he was in coupled with the rotten morning he'd experienced was having a negative effect on his mood, causing him to loose his temper with her and become unnecessarily harsh and impatient.

"No, I don't think there have ever been any seers in my family," she said, sounding rather nervous after he'd snapped at her. His tone was making her a bit uneasy.

"An you're sure about tha?"

Violet hesitated before speaking. "I think so. I know my parents don't have abilities like that and nither do my grandparents."

"Wha about your sister?"

"No, Heather's good at herbology but she can't predict the future. To be honest I don't know anyone who can."

Scabior thought about what she said. Then he asked her if anything like this had ever happened to her before.

Violet shook her head. "No, never. My mother always told me I am nothing but a useless failure, that I am stupid and can't do anything right."

"Wha about when you were in school?" Scabior asked. "You 'ad to be good at something."

"Herbology and astronomy were the only subjects I was ever good at. But I'm not the perfect pureblood everyone expects me to be." Violet paused, biting her bottom lip as she gazed down at the blankets on the bed. "I never graduated. I completed all six years of my education, I just couldn't pass the final exam in order to graduate."

"Wait a minute," said Scabior, looking slightly perplexed. "Six years? Don't you mean seven?"

"I'm from Italy. The wizarding school I attended with my sister starts at age thirteen and lasts for six years," Violet explained.

"Do you know wha I think your problem is?" said Scabior thoughtfully. "I think you've unconsciously been suppressing your magical abilities the entire time you were living with your mum. She convinced you tha you are worthless. But now tha you're away from all tha an living with me, some of your true powers are starting to come to the surface."

Violet actually laughed at this. "You're joking," she chuckled, unwilling to believe what he said.

"No, I'm not, pet," he said, his tone serious this time. "Ask yourself this - 'ave you ever been able to use wandless magic before you met me? Or dream of events in the future?"

For several long seconds Violet was silent, realization slowly dawning on her that he was right. She'd never been able to preform magic like this before.

Scabior smiled as he watched her expression brighten with dawning comprehension. But his joy at seeing her pleasure was short lived as he felt a sudden sharp stab of pain in his right ankle.

The pain he felt brought his thoughts back to the injuries he'd sustained. He needed to clean himself up and mend his torn clothing. He also needed to wrap his ankle to make it easier for him to walk.

"I 'ave to go, pet," he said, grimacing in pain as he rose up off the bed. "I need to get washed up an tend to my injuries. But before I do I want you to promise me tha you will not speak of this to the others. I don't want them to know tha you are possibly a seer."

Violet looked confused. "Why don't you want them to know?"

"There are various reasons," he replied. "I can't always trust some of the people who work for me. If information regarding your abilities passed to the wrong person, it could be potentionally dangerous for you."

Momentarily ignoring the pain in his ankle, Scabior shifted his weight onto his left foot as he reached out and ran his fingers back through Violet's hair.

"I need to be able to protect you...to keep you safe," he said, speaking softly as he gazed deep into her eyes. He could feel himself sinking deeper into those olive green eyes of hers, into the depths of her beating heart, her very soul, connecting with her as if their hearts were one.

Why did she have such a hold on him? Her very spirit reaching out to him, meeting in a fragment of space and time set aside for them, reserved only for them to come together in body and soul, two hearts meeting in the silence of space, holding tight to each other.

He gently whispered, "You are mine. You will be my little secret. All of this will be. And I promise I will keep you safe, Violet." He then leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, unable to hold back his feelings for her any longer.

Violet did not fight him, nor did she attempt to pull away when she felt his lips make contact with hers. Instead she leaned into him, kissing him back as she wrapped her arms around him.

The moment would have been perfect, but as her arms closed around him Scabior's body tensed as he felt her brush against his wounded arm.

"Stop, pet," he gasped, breaking contact with her and backing away slightly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, loosening her grip on him somewhat.

He slipped out of her grasp, his fingers finding the bandages around his arm as he held his injured limb.

"Dammit!" he hissed through his clenched teeth. "I'm sorry, love. It's this blasted arm."

There it was again. The word 'love'. Violet wasn't hearing things after all.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Violet asked, looking at him with concern.

"It's fine, sweet'eart," said Scabior. "I've been through much worse than this."

"But are you sure you'll be alright? You're positively covered in blood."

"I'm sure," he reassured her. "Now you will promise not to tell any of the others about your abilities. Understand?"

"Yes Scabior. I understand. I promise not to tell them."

"Thank you, love."


	19. Collapse From Within

**Chapter 18: Collapse From Within**

In the days following Scabior and Jacob's duel, Scabior increased security around the campsite, strengthening the wards he'd placed around their living quarters and ordering Greyback and Ranca to take turns keeping watch at night.

Under normal circumstances Scabior's wards were enough to keep any unwanted guests out of camp. The only problem was that his spells were designed to deter human intruders. A wizard wearing the guise of an animal could easily slip into camp because animals were unaffected by Scabior's wards.

But Scabior wasn't about to let this one flaw keep him from protectioning Violet. He added a few additional enchantments to his tent to keep her safe. And shortly after lunch on the morning he was attacked by Jacob, Scabior headed out to Diagon Alley to purchase a bottle of dreamless sleep potion for her.

Scabior knew that Violet's abilities could be of use to him. He could use them to his advantage as though she were his own secret weapon. She could give him advanced warning of dangerous events in the future, making it easier for him to stay one step ahead of his foes. This would be especially useful should Lord Voldemort fall in defeat.

'But at wha cost?' Scabior thought, gazing down at the bottle of midnight blue dreamless sleep potion in his hand. 'It's not worth it if it means she 'as to suffer for 'er gift.'

He walked over to the witch behind the counter, his sore ankle paining him with every step he took, and paid for the dreamless sleep potion.

When he presented her with the dreamless sleep potion Violet was hesitant to start taking it. She told him that she needed to keep having her dreams in case anything bad was lurking on the horizon. But Scabior insisted that she take it for a couple nights so she could rest and catch up on her sleep.

"Some day tha ability of yours will be useful," he told her. "But not right now. Not while it's causing you to 'ave nightmares and lose sleep. You 'ave to learn 'ow to properly control it first. Until then I want you to take this when you start 'aving nightmares again."

"Alright," said Violet, agreeing rather reluctantly to start taking the potion.

"I also want you to take the potion whenever you get upset by something," Scabior added. "I don't want you to go back to 'urting yourself. Tell me if you feel sad or upset. I can 'elp. Then take tha potion to calm yourself an rest. Understand, pet?"

"Yes, Scabior. I'll do as you say."

Thank you, sweet'eart," he said, smiling as he put an arm around her. "I told you I could repair the damage tha's been done if you trusted me an gave me a chance. An I meant it, love. I'll take good care of you. I promise."

Time passed. It had now been five days since the morning of Jacob and Scabior's duel. And while Violet seemed to be in relatively good spirits for the time being, she couldn't help but notice that Scabior didn't quite seem like himself lately.

Scabior had become run down and listless, his usually high energy levels lagging for some reason. He'd also become more withdrawn and defensive, snapping at his men over the slightest thing whenever they spoke to him.

At first Violet attributed his behavior to the fact that he'd been staying awake later than usual, checking on Greyback and Ranca to make sure they weren't asleep at their post. Once he'd caught Greyback dozing off around two thirty in the morning. And after sending the werewolf running back to his tent with a few lashes to the arse, Scabior spent the remainder of the night awake on watch.

Violet hoped that Scabior's odd behavior was due to nothing more than lack of sleep. He hadn't been drinking more than usual so she knew that wasn't the problem. But as time wore on she could see that Scabior's condition was rapidly deteriorating to the point where he appeared as though he were becoming ill.

Violet couldn't understand what was wrong. When she tried asking him what was wrong Scabior ignored her until she changed the subject. He absolutely refused to discuss matters concerning his health.

One evening while everyone was sitting down to dinner around the campfire, Violet glanced over at Scabior and saw that he had barely touched any of the food on his plate. Normally Scabior had a ravenous appetite and ate more than anyone else in the group except Greyback. But tonight it seemed as though he had little interest in food.

"Hey boss, you ought to try one of these," said Jeremy, holding out a long stick that had several plump sausages impaled upon the end that he'd been roasting over the fire. "They're rather tasty if I do say so myself."

Scabior pushed the stick away. "I'm not 'ungry," he said simply.

When the sun rose the next morning Scabior was still in bed sleeping. Normally he was one of the first people to wake up in the morning. But today he overslept and missed breakfast.

Silis offered to make Scabior breakfast when the head Snatcher woke up at half past ten in the morning. Scabior still had no interest in food and turned down the offer. He then decided to leave camp for a while to patrol the surrounding area and make sure that everything was safe and secure in the forest around their campsite.

By now no one could ignore Scabior's unusual behavior. Even Morvin noticed that something wasn't right, and the Snatchers became concerned, wondering what was wrong with their leader.

Violet didn't like the looks of this. Scabior was possibly ill, and now he had gone off by himself on patrol through the forest. None of the other Snatchers were doing anything about it. Perhaps they were afraid of the repercussions that may arise if Scabior disapproved of their actions. Greyback still had difficulty sitting down after Scabior punished him for falling asleep at his post. No one wanted to risk incurring their leader's wrath.

Violet put down the book she was reading. She was sitting at Scabior's desk trying to take her mind off him by reading one of the books he'd given her. It was an interesting book on advanced conjuration spells, but it couldn't hold her attention for very long. Her mind was too focused on Scabior that morning as she wondered where he was and if he was alright.

She knew she could leave the tent if she wanted to. Scabior had recently altered the enchantments on his tent, allowing Violet to come and go from there as she pleased, as long as she didn't stray outside of the protective spells surroundings the campsite or try to run away. She could try sneaking off and following Scabior to make sure he was alright, but would she really be able to get past a camp full of Snatchers?

Violet crept over to the entrance of the tent. She opened the tent flap just enough to peek outside. The only Snatchers she saw were Morvin and Ranca halfway across the camp. They were yelling at each other and appeared to be engaged in a heated argument.

Violet didn't know what they were arguing about. All she knew was that this was the perfect opportunity for her to leave camp unnoticed while Morvin and Ranca were having a row. So she quietly slipped out of the tent before the others had time to realize she was gone and made her way out into the woods.

Once she was in the forest Violet began searching for signs that Scabior had passed through the area, such as broken twigs or footprints. It didn't take her long to realize that tracking someone through the dense undergrowth of an old forest wasn't all that easy. In fact it was rather difficult, given her inexperience tracking and the fact that she had no idea where she was.

'How does Scabior do it?' she thought, stumbling through a tangled growth of blackberry vines that had snaked their way along the ground and up the trunks of the surrounding oak trees.

Her pants leg caught on the blackberry bush thorns, snagging and ripping the material as she continued on her way. But she didn't care, nor did she give any thought to the scratches she obtained on her legs from the thorny vines. Her only thought was moving forward and locating Scabior.

After several minutes of wandering through the forest, Violet came across a narrow trail between the trees. The path before her was bare dirt with layers of fallen leaves strewn across the sides of the dirt trail. Oak trees and bilberry lined the sides of the path with clumps of tall grass growing between the trees, most of which had been obscured by fallen leaves.

Violet decided to follow the path, hoping it would lead to Scabior. Eventually she came to a small sturdy wooden bridge that crossed over a stream running south into the forest.

As she paused on the bridge to look around, Violet could see tall cattails growing out of the stream to her right, their brown tips gently waving in the crisp November air. Some of them had split open with their downy white fluff spilling out onto the surface of the water below. To her left the stream was partially choked off by more rambling blackberry vines.

It was a beautiful scene, one Violet wished she could stop and enjoy for a while. But she had to continue on. Scabior was still out there somewhere and she had to find him.

The trail stretched on before her for what seemed like miles. She had no idea how long or far she walked, going deeper and deeper into the woods. The sun climbed higher into the sky and still there was no sign of Scabior.

The trail gradually became wider, the trees on either side of the trail thinning as the path opened out into a large clearing. And standing in the middle of the path was Scabior.

At first Violet was cautious, approaching him slowly as he stood with his back to her. He was a fair distance ahead of her, his body a darkened silhouette between the trees that loomed overhead. She wanted to make sure that this was in fact Scabior and not Jacob before she got any closer.

"Scabior?" Violet called out to him, but the Snatcher did not respond.

She took several steps forward and tried calling to him again.

Still no response.

Scabior then took a few unsteady steps forward. He held his head in his right hand, doubling over as though he were in pain. The next thing Violet knew Scabior staggered sideways and collapsed to the ground.


	20. The Price of Selflessness

**Chapter 19: The Price of Selflessness**

Violet immediately ran to the place where Scabior had collapsed, kneeling beside him and carefully rolling him over onto his back.

"Scabior!" she called out, trying to get him to respond. "Scabior, can you hear me? Come on, Scabior, say something, please."

Panic surged through Violet's chest, causing her heart to race as she gazed down at Scabior's unconscious form beside her. It was then that she noticed the deep flush about his face and the thin coat of perspiration that had formed on his brow. She placed the palm of her hand across his forehead, only to discover that he was running a fever.

Now Violet was really worried. She was lost in the woods, alone with an ill wizard who was feverish and unconscious, and she didn't know what was wrong or how to help him. She wondered how he'd become ill so suddenly. No one else at camp had been sick recently. She also wondered how she would be able to get help when they were so far away from camp.

She couldn't just leave him while she went to search for the other Snatchers. She doubted that she'd be able to find her way back to camp, and chances were she'd get lost long before she made it anywhere near the Snatcher's campsite. Though she didn't have long to ponder these thoughts, for only a minute or two later she heard footsteps coming down the path and looked up to see Ranca heading her way.

"Ranca!" Violet called out, waving to him as his head came into view above the thick ferns and bushes that crowed the edges of the path several yards away. "Ranca, come quick! It's Scabior. He needs help!"

In an instant Ranca dashed off at top speed down the path, rounding the corner as the ground beneath his feet dipped down and opened out into a wider path with sparse vegetation on either side of the trail.

"What's wrong? Is he hurt?" Ranca asked as soon as he arrived on scene.

"No, but I think he may be sick," Violet replied, her eyes dark with worry as she glanced up at Ranca.

"Sick?" Ranca seemed taken aback by her words. He wasn't expecting his leader to have suddenly fallen ill.

"He's burning up with a fever, Ranca," said Violet, anxiously wringing her hands. "I don't know what happened. He just fainted right in front of me."

Ranca felt Scabior's forehead then checked his pulse. "His heart rate has gone up quite a bit," he said, removing his wand from the pocket of his charcoal gray pants. "We need to get him back to camp. I can assess his condition better once we return." He then waved his wand and conjured a stretcher. He flicked his wand again and levitated Scabior's unconscious form onto the stretcher.

"Scabior's going to kill me for this," muttered Ranca as he made the stretcher rise a few feet into the air in front of him. He looked back at Violet. "Whatever happens do not tell Scabior how I brought him back to camp. The boss has...well, he has an excessive amount of pride, and he would not be pleased if he knew I levitated him back to camp on a stretcher."

Ranca had no trouble finding his way back to camp. And needless to say the sight of him and Violet returning with Scabior on a stretcher drew a great deal of attention from the rest of the Snatchers.

Greyback with the first to come forward, questioning Ranca on what had happened.

"We don't know yet, but we think he may be ill," Ranca told him, his tone gravely sober as he spoke to the werewolf. "You keep everything calm out here. I'm going to see what can be done about Scabior."

Because Scabior had lost consciousness, the enchantments he'd placed on his tent that prevented anyone but him and Violet from entering his private living quarters had fallen, giving Ranca access to his master's tent. The spells that Scabior cast would have to be recast at a later time when he recovered, but right now Ranca had more important matters to tend to.

After levitating Scabior onto his bed and vanishing the stretcher, Ranca immediately set about checking Scabior's vital signs with a basic charm he cast on the head Snatcher. Violet meanwhile went to the bathroom to fill a bowl with cool water which she brought along with a washcloth to Scabior's bedroom.

Violet soaked the cloth in the water, wringing out the excess fluid before neatly folding the washcloth and laying it across Scabior's fevered brow.

The ailing Snatcher moaned faintly as the damp cloth made contact with his forehead. He did not open his eyes, but he stirred slightly, the first sign that he was beginning to regain consciousness.

"Isn't there a spell you can use to revive him?" Violet asked.

"Yes, there is," Ranca replied at length, casting a wary glance at Scabior. "But you don't know what he's like when he's sick. He becomes even more stubborn and difficult to deal with than usual. It's practically impossible to get anywhere near him when he's not feeling well. So trust me when I say that it's easier this way."

Violet frowned, sighing in frustration. From the sounds of it Scabior wasn't going to be an easy patient to care for.

"Another thing to keep in mind is that fainting spells always exhaust him," Ranca continued. "So even after he regains consciousness he's still going to be somewhat groggy and sluggish for a while."

Violet watched in silence as Ranca carefully removed Scabior's jacket and set it aside at the foot of the bed, the subtle movement causing a low moan to escape from Scabior's lips.

"According to the results of the charm I cast his temperature is 102," said Ranca, his hands now moving towards the soiled bandages wrapped around the upper half of Scabior's left arm. "Something has to be causing his fever. Now I'm not entirely certain but I think I know what's making him sick."

Ranca unwound the bandages around Scabior's arm. Moments later a thin foul aroma wafted into the air.

"What's that smell?" Violet asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She then gasped in shock and revulsion as Ranca finished removing the last of the bandages, revealing the deep gash on Scabior's arm that had become severely infected.

Violet clamped a hand over her mouth, staring wide eyed at the inflamed mass on his arm. The area around the wound was swollen with red streaks trailing down towards his elbow. The stench coming from the infected wound was putrid. It was a wonder Scabior hadn't noticed it before.

"Well," said Ranca, "I think we know now why he isn't feeling so good."

"That looks awful," said Violet, lowering her hand. "And painful." She wondered if Scabior was in any pain from the infection. Though from the looks of it there was no way something that badly infected couldn't be causing him a great deal of pain.

Scabior shifted slightly in bed, causing the damp cloth to slide a few inches off his forehead as he turned away from the sound of their voices.

Violet picked up the washcloth. She could feel that it had already warmed significantly, so she placed it back in the bowl of cool water before wringing it out again and dabbing it against Scabior's flushed cheeks.

Her care and attentiveness did not go unnoticed by Ranca, who was carefully watching her from beneath his shaggy mass of dirty blond hair. He watched as she spoke softly to his ailing master, offering words of comfort as Scabior slowly opened his eyes.

By now Scabior had partially regained some of his senses and was attempting to talk, mumbling incoherently as Violet replaced the washcloth on his forehead. His eyes drifted closed again, and for a minute it appeared as though he'd fallen asleep.

"I think I know how Scabior became sick," said Ranca, looking over at Violet as she tended to his master. "These last few days he's been more concerned about protecting you than looking after his own health and well being. He's been so focused on you he hasn't been taking care of himself.

"This has never happened before. Scabior's own needs always take priority over everyone else's. He never puts someone else before himself. You must really mean a lot to him in order for him to put you first."

Violet was momentarily stunned by his words. Since when was she ever good enough to be worth so much time and attention from anyone, let alone a member of the opposite sex? There was nothing beautiful or outstanding about her general appearance. Her short brown hair was oily and she was atleast twenty pounds overweight. She was fairly certain that her looks didn't qualify her as a beauty queen, so why would Scabior think she was anything special?

Scabior opened his eyes, his vision slightly blurred as he stared blankly at the ceiling above.

"Violet..." he murmured.

"I'm here, Scabior," she softly replied. "It's alright. I'm right here, sweetie."

Ranca watched in amazement as Violet removed the warm washcloth from his master's forehead, placing it back in the bowl of cool water before leaning in close to Scabior, smoothing a few wet strands of his long hair out of his face, then placing a gentle kiss on his fevered brow.

Scabior sighed faintly, his body relaxing as her lips made contact with his hot flesh. He then felt her fingers in his hair as she reached around to the back of his head and removed the ribbon that held his hair tied back in a loosely braided ponytail.

"There," Violet said, gently fluffing his tangled tresses with one hand as the other set the ribbon on the nightstand. "You should feel more comfortable without that mass at the back of your neck."

The corners of Scabior's mouth pulled upwards as he smiled at her. "Thank you, love. Tha does feel better."

Ranca watched as Violet continued to stroke Scabior's hair for a while longer before wringing out the washcloth again and placing it back on Scabior's forehead.

Wasn't she supposed to be Scabior's prisoner? Wasn't Violet supposed to want to escape the Snatchers, not get close to their leader and caress his hair while he lay in bed sick and injured from fighting to protect her?

Somewhere along the lines things had changed between them. Their feelings for each other were growing stronger each day, and one could call what they had now the beginning of a relationship.

Ranca shook his head, unable to believe what he was seeing. He knew that Scabior fancied her, but he never imagined that she might love him back.

"Violet, please," he said, drawing her attention away from his master. "Scabior needs medical attention as soon as possible. We need to figure out what to do to get him the help he needs."

"Don't any of you Snatchers know any healing spells?" Violet asked.

"No, unfortunately we don't. Scabior knows a few basic healing charms, but nothing that would help him in his current condition."

"What about taking him to the hospital?"

"No." Ranca seemed strongly opposed to that particular suggestion. "Scabior absolutely hates being in the hospital. Taking him to St. Mungo's would only be done as a last resort."

"You two do realize tha I'm right 'ere listening to you, don't you?" Scabior grumbled, his words garbled with exhaustion.

Both Violet and Ranca turned to see Scabior glaring at them, his pale blue eyes half closed and bleary. Nither one of them were able to clearly understand what he was saying, though Violet thought she could catch at least one or two of his words.

Violet's brow furrowed with concern as she listened to Scabior's slow, slurred speech. He was conscious, but he was barely able to move or speak.

"If we can't heal him and we can't take him to the hospital, then what other options are there?" she asked.

"I think the best thing to do would be to take him to the Malfoys," said Ranca. "Scabior is good friends with them, and Mrs. Malfoy is known to possess some moderate healing skills. There's a good change that they'd be willing to help him."

Upon hearing this Violet's expression brightened. "You really think they'll help him?"

"Yes, I do," Ranca said with a nod. "Lucius Malfoy has helped Scabior before, and I see no reason why he wouldn't help him again. The only problem is how to get Scabior to Malfoy manor. I don't know if he's strong enough to apparate there."


End file.
